


A Soldier's Eyes

by saddle_tramp



Series: The World Belongs To Me [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hulk (2003), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddle_tramp/pseuds/saddle_tramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fandom:  Marvel Movies Universe AU</p><p>Spoilers:  If you’ve read the rest of the series, you already know I use what I like of canon and pitch the rest, both movie and comic ‘verse. Spoilers for the ENTIRE MARVEL MOVIE ‘VERSE.</p><p>Rating:  R<br/>Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content. </p><p>Summary:  </p><p>Phil still can’t believe the team considers him to be an Avenger, Clint wants to pretend that last mission just flat didn’t happen, Steve’s as happy as he's ever been in his life, Thor’s excited that his fiancé will be moving in soon, Natasha is still standing, Rhodey’s ready to catch her if she falls, Tony’s still ambushing Steve and Bruce whenever he can, and Bruce is his usual unflappable self as long as he makes sure not to be in the same room with either of his lovers when they change clothes. </p><p>Then a guy walks into the tower making claims that should be impossible, shaking Steve to the core and causing some revelations to be made.</p><p>NOTE:<br/>Yes, I changed the title. Each chapter of this had a working title separate from the whole, which in my head was <i>A Soldier's Eyes</i>, and after debating with myself I've finally fixed it. Sorry if it confuses anyone!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> This verse goes AU just after Thor, but includes pretty much all of the Avengers movie canon in a slightly altered form because in this ‘verse the Avengers began a little bit differently. Also, concerning Bruce’s canon from the Hulk movies, I’m going with the 2003 version (Yes, I am the one person who loved it!) and assuming that happened at least five years before the Avengers movie. I think that fits best with the canon given in the movies.  
> This is a sequel to my other AU Avengers movie ‘verse fics, beginning about six months after the end of _Box Full of Secrets_. Please read the other parts first or you won’t know some very important backstory for this fic and much of it won’t make any sense.
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize here is property of Marvel, I'm just borrowing their characters to let them have some fun. Anyone you don't recognize might be mine, but then again they might just be so obscure no one but me ever noticed them. I'm not making any money or fame off of them anyway, so no harm no foul, forever and ever, Amen. 
> 
> No copyright infringement is intended, and none of this ever happened. Dangit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this to fix a problem I noticed on a read-through to find any other mistakes I have made, something I often do because there is _always_ one more typo in my fics. I rearranged a bit, but nothing _changed_ , I just fixed a problem with the flow that bugged me.

 

A large group of Doombots had been released in Central Park somehow and started wreaking havoc as they traveled through the city towards the waterfront for some reason known only to Doom himself, and the battle was definitely going well for the Avengers.

It was only the third op since Tony, Rhodey, Clint, and Bruce had finished completely rebuilding the Mark VI armor to fit Phil and he still felt a little shaky in the air much of the time, but at least he was actually being _useful_ this time. He had seen videos of Tony’s first flights so he knew that even the genius who had _designed_ the armors had needed practice to get the hang of it, and Rhodey had told him stories about his first few flights with the War Machine that made Phil less critical of his own sometimes-erratic flying ability. Tony’s skill in the armor _now_ made it easy to forget that just a few years ago he had been slamming into walls and knocking himself silly, which was something that Phil had avoided so far, but he still wanted desperately to improve. Phil's own first flight had been successful only because JARVIS had quietly and very competently made certain Phil didn’t hurt himself, correcting his mistakes as soon as they were made and making Phil look much better at flying than he felt like he actually was.

That particular night Phil would have much preferred being down on the ground with Clint in the thick of things, but his team had protested the idea loudly and Phil had argued with them for only a short time before he gave in and agreed to stay out of it again. His team was a bit fanatical about protecting him, he knew, but he understood the impulse and he tried hard not to fight them on it whenever they were actually right so he had promised to stay high and safely out of the fray. Acting as the team’s 'high eyes' allowed him to keep an eye on Clint, at least, and he got a lot of practice at lifting off and landing as he moved from building to building, so he was willing to stay out of the fight for now.

Phil knew he hadn’t been much help during his first two battles in the armor, mostly because he was too busy trying not to get Clint killed to handle much more than carrying Clint from one vantage point to another, but this time he felt he had done much better. He had long ago perfected the skill of reading where a battle would go next, and that night he had managed to position himself so he had a good view to keep his team up to speed on the parts of the battle the others couldn’t see because of buildings and drifting smoke, so he was pleased with his performance so far that day.

The smoke from a Doombot that Thor had just destroyed obscured his view of Clint for a moment, and when it cleared Phil realized he couldn’t see him any more. “JARVIS, where did he go?” he asked quietly, very sure he didn’t need to specify who.

Before his first test flight in the suit Phil had asked JARVIS to keep what he said in the armor reasonably private whenever he addressed JARVIS himself, so he didn’t worry that what he was saying might distract the others at a crucial moment. Only Tony would hear what they said, but Tony always monitored the comms – including SHIELD’s supposedly secure commlinks – during a battle and seldom allowed chatter to affect his concentration, though he was quick to utilize anything he overheard if it could help the team. 

“Master Clint just ran around the corner to your left, sir,” JARVIS responded immediately. “You will have an excellent vantage point on the roof of the building across the street from there.”

“Thank you,” Phil replied gratefully, spreading his hands slightly and flexing his feet to engage the repulsors and lift him up off the roof so he could fly quickly over the building towards the perch JARVIS had recommended.

Phil knew that his sudden movement wouldn’t affect the battle below, not with his armor’s unique new stealth coating that he thought was quite simply amazing. Steve and Clint had come up with the idea of a color-shifting armor plating that JARVIS could alter with electrical currents while they were just idly talking one day, and somehow Bruce and Tony had managed to bring the idea to life in the form of a metallic paint based on something called germanium.

The actual development process was entirely over Phil’s head, but the end result had worked perfectly so far. Applying the color-shifting layer to the Mark VI  that was now Phil’s had been the work of just a few hours for JARVIS, and that night’s mission was the first time it was being used in the field. Phil’s armor was currently a dark mottled grey that was perfect skyline camouflage on a cloudy moonless night, making Phil’s armor easy to miss when Rhodey’s newly patriotic War Machine and Tony’s flashy red and gold Iron Man were both flying around blowing up Doombots like they were fish in a barrel.

Phil flew over the corner of the building and then directly across the street to a safe perch where he could observe the west side of the abandoned building that the last few remaining Doombots seemed to be converging on. There were only a few of the ‘bots left mobile, and two dozen or more scattered in the streets where they had been disabled or outright destroyed, so Phil was sure the battle would be over very soon. He couldn’t see most of the team from his new perch, just Clint, but that was enough to make him itch to join in the fight.

Clint had remained safely next to Phil during the last two battles the Avengers faced, far above the fray but still deadly with the array of arrows he carried, but that night Clint had joined the rest of the team down in the thick of the battle, leaping off a building early on and racing to get a shot at a Doombot that had cornered Natasha in a narrow little alley that was blocked from above by a balcony on the next building. Clint’s sudden appearance and the explosion as the Doombot was destroyed hadn’t fazed Natasha, who ducked under the falling ‘bot to escape, thanking her long-absent partner with a tiny smirk even as she charged past Clint out of the tiny alley to attack the nearest Doombot. Clint had followed at her heels as if he hadn’t ever left the fight, grinning wide and fierce as he guarded her back while Natasha waded right into the thick of things, and Phil had forced himself not to interfere as Natasha and Clint headed into battle together for the first time since the Chitauri invasion.

At that moment, there was just one ‘bot on the west side of the building where Clint and Phil were, battering away at the corner of the structure with single-minded intensity, but Phil still had to remind himself Clint could handle it. Clint had already taken out half a dozen other ‘bots without getting even a scratch, and the one he was after just then was ignoring him so completely that Clint probably could have climbed up the ‘bot itself to jam an arrow into the narrow joint between head and body that seemed to be the Doombots’ only real weakness. Clint was scaling the fire ladder up the side of the building that the Doombots were attacking instead of killing the one closest to him though, seemingly ignoring the way the building shook every time one of the fifteen-foot-tall Doombots rammed into it.

“Clint, buddy, where did you go?” Rhodey asked suddenly over the comms, sounding concerned.

Phil watched Clint intently, forcing himself not to order Clint to find somewhere else to fire from. He knew that Clint wouldn’t risk himself without reason, so he was willing to let Clint do his thing as long as he could see Clint to keep an eye on him. Clint had an instinctive grasp of the trends of a firefight, and he sometimes saw something coming that surprised even Phil.

“West side,” Clint replied without slowing down, quickly climbing the ladder even though the Doombot attacking that side of the building kept ramming its heavy maul-like head into the wall and making the whole structure shake. “My ‘bot headed over here.”

There was an explosion suddenly on the north side of the building that shook the whole structure, followed by Tony zooming around northwest corner of the building into Phil’s line of sight. Tony braked in mid-air almost as soon as he appeared and blurted, “What the fuck are you _doing_ , Clint!? That building is _not_ gonna take much more!”

Clint swung up onto the top floor fire escape and then drew his bow in one graceful move, and Phil could see him smirking as Clint said, “Blowing up Doombots, duh.” He leaned over the rail and aimed an exploding arrow straight down at the Doombot that was still battering the building below him as he added, “Playtime’s over, I have _plans_ for tonight.”

“Ten-four on that!” Rhodey said, laughing just as Clint fired.

The arrow found its target, exploding on contact, and the Doombot let out a mechanical shriek, ramming into the corner of the building again just before the ‘bot exploded, sending up a dense cloud of black smoke. The building shuddered, and then there were two more loud explosions on the far side of the building that caused it to lurch towards Phil and slowly begin to fall as the remaining supports began to crumble under the suddenly uneven weight.

Phil leapt off of his rooftop perch, trusting JARVIS to keep him from killing himself even as he dove towards the fire escape on the falling building, eyes going wide as the smoke began to clear a little and he saw the fire escape was empty. Parts of it had come loose from the building, hitting the rubble-strewn road a moment later with a resounding crash. “Clint! Report!”

There was no answer.

“Fuck! I don’t see him!” Tony said, obviously fighting to keep calm. “JARVIS?”

“Master Clint has entered the building, sirs,” JARVIS said, sounding _very_ concerned. Phil’s HUD suddenly showed a flare of purple not far inside the building, moving very slowly towards a window not very far from where Tony was hovering. “His comm has been damaged and I believe Master Clint to be injured, possibly disoriented.”

Tony dove towards the window as he snapped, “JARVIS, loudspeakers, max volume.” JARVIS didn’t waste time with a reply other than a soft tone, and then Tony roared, “CLINT! FLY OUT THAT WINDOW _NOW_!”

The purple flare stopped moving for an instant before it surged towards the window, and then suddenly Clint was crashing through the glass and then grabbing desperately for Tony with just one hand, his other arm hanging uselessly in a way that Phil recognized. Tony caught Clint easily and rocketed upwards as he settled Clint against his chest in his arms, slowing as soon as they were well above the debris that was billowing up from the collapsing building.

“JARVIS, injury report, now!” Phil snapped as he flew upwards out of the debris cloud, trying very hard to regain his calm. He spotted several SHIELD vehicles arriving and changed trajectory slightly to avoid them as he skirted the still-settling building to look for a safe place to tell Tony to land, barely registering it as Steve ran around the northwest side of the building towards him. All he could think about was how long it was taking JARVIS to reply.

“Master Clint needs immediate medical attention but he is not in mortal danger,” JARVIS said finally. “He is bleeding heavily from a scalp wound and has a moderate concussion, but he is no longer aware of it. He has just passed out, most likely due to the pain of his dislocated shoulder.”

"Tony—" Phil began, but Tony spoke up before he could say anything more.

"I've got him, Phil." Tony curved into a graceful arc away from Phil, heading towards Avengers Tower as Phil reminded himself firmly that Tony would take care of Clint as well as anyone could, even him. He had seen the proof himself in some of the footage JARVIS had let him see during his long, boring recovery. Tony had put his entire life on hold to take care of Clint while Phil was in a coma, and had often done so since then whenever Clint didn’t want to bother Phil with his problems. Clint’s nightmares had become infrequent over the last several months, but when Clint had one he usually managed to slip out of Phil's bed without waking him and then went down to the family room where Tony would soon turn up, sometimes with Bruce and Steve in tow. Tony was an expert at distracting Clint until the nightmare faded away enough that Clint could return to bed, and Steve and Bruce both understood how badly Clint sometimes needed that.

"Keep me posted," Phil said quickly.

"I will," Tony promised, and then added, “JARVIS, call Mickey to the infirmary and get the outer door open. I’m coming in hot.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS responded. “Doctor Mikayla is on her way there, and I just woke her nurse as well. Miss Nora is leaving her son with a neighbor and then will head in as quickly as she can manage.”

“Order Nora the biggest bouquet of roses you can find, JARVIS,” Tony said, sounding relieved. “And make sure she knows that her son is welcome to come in with her even at night. One of the nursery staff is always in the building just in case of emergencies.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding almost normal again.

“Steve? Looks like you’ll have to catch a ride home with Phil,” Tony said then, sounding cheerful. “I’m gonna be kind of busy.”

“Just take care of Clint, Tony,” Steve said quickly. “We’ll handle everything here.”

Phil landed not far from Steve while JARVIS opened the footholds on the back of Phil’s calves, and a moment later Steve was stepping up to latch his body harness into the safety restraints that _should_ have been holding Clint. He couldn’t really feel much to indicate Steve was on his back, but he still knew that he was there.

Steve patted Phil’s shoulder to let him know he was strapped in, and Phil nodded, sure that Rhodey was picking up Natasha on the far side of the building if he hadn’t already done so. Hopefully Thor would be able to convince the Hulk to give control back to Bruce soon, though Phil hoped Thor didn’t try to explain to the Hulk _why_ they needed Bruce back now. The Hulk was extremely protective of their tight-knit little family, especially Tony and Clint, and would charge home through anything that got in his way if he knew Clint was hurt and needed Bruce’s help.

There was a long moment of silence and then JARVIS sounded relieved as he said suddenly, “Master Clint has regained consciousness enough to try to order Master Stark to bring him back to the battle, but Master Stark is pretending not to hear him.”

“Wonderful,” Phil said, finally relaxing again enough to help him regain his usual composure.

“Amen,” Rhodey agreed, his voice echoed by Steve and then surprisingly Natasha. Thor seldom remembered to wear his comm unit, and Tony still hadn’t managed to make one that Bruce _and_ the Hulk could wear, which left them out of the loop until the team was together again. The Hulk never failed to smash anything in his pockets when Bruce let the other guy out, and always destroyed any electronic devices that got near his sensitive ears.

“Steve, I’m going up," Phil said, not wanting to startle him.

“I’m fine, Phil,” Steve said quietly, giving the shoulder of Phil’s armor a strong enough pat that Phil could faintly feel it.

Phil smiled slightly as he flexed his hands and feet, lifting off smoothly despite Steve’s weight and then flying up towards to the nearest intact rooftop to land neatly. “Team, assemble here. I’m going to check in with SHIELD.”

“You heard the man, Rhodes,” Natasha said. “Get this bucket of bolts moving.”

“Movin’ and a groovin’, your highness,” Rhodey agreed, and from his tone of voice Phil was very sure he was smirking, which didn’t bode well for Natasha’s peace of mind.

“Not _that_ quickly!” Natasha said sharply, making Steve laugh as Phil’s smile widened slightly. Natasha wasn’t the biggest fan of flying unless she or Clint was at the controls, but Rhodey took it as a challenge and had sworn to prove to her one way or another that he was an even better pilot than Clint.

“I got you, Tash, chill,” Rhodey said cheerfully. “And Thor and Bruce are right behind us, Phil.”

“Thank you, Rhodey,” Phil said, grateful that the Hulk hadn’t argued with Thor or Bruce this time. Bruce had gained much better control of the Hulk since Tony had helped him make peace between them, but sometimes in the heat of battle the Hulk would still fight for control and win. When that happened, it often took Tony _and_ Steve to convince the Hulk that playtime was over and they needed Bruce back. “JARVIS, patch me into SHIELD’s comm system, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

There was an instant of silence and then Phil heard Maria Hill’s familiar voice saying quickly, “I want every one of these Doombots in the trucks and on the way to headquarters before Richards and his goon squad get here. He is _not_ taking them out from under our noses, not this time.”

There was a flurry of ‘yes ma’am’ responses, and Phil waited for them to end before he said calmly, “Assistant Director Hill, if the Avengers are no longer needed, we have wounded to attend to.”

“We have two field medics on site if you need them, Phil,” Maria said quickly, sounding concerned. “Who’s hurt?”

“Clint was hit by falling bricks when a fire escape collapsed under him,” Phil replied, trying to keep his voice level. “He’s already been pulled from battle for treatment, but he was knocked out and we would all prefer to join him.” He wasn’t at all sorry for the slight lie. Fury and Maria were his friends, family even, but Phil didn’t trust SHIELD any more than Clint did these days, and that wasn’t far at all. Every time he started to believe he could trust them, JARVIS would inevitably discover something else that Fury had lied about to gain the use of Phil’s expertise to help plan some top-secret mission or another, usually about something petty and stupid that didn’t actually _matter_. JARVIS had kept the lies between himself and Phil so far, but Phil knew that would last only so long as Fury’s lies didn’t actually hurt anyone.

“Of course, Phil,” Maria said quickly, still sounding concerned. “Go take care of Clint, we have this well in hand and I know he'll need you there when he wakes up.”

"Thank you, Maria," Phil replied quietly, glad that Clint had finally managed to make peace between himself and Maria. Clint had done it for his sake, Phil knew, and he was very grateful.

Rhodey settled onto the roof near Phil then, lifting his visor and looking concerned while Natasha watched Phil over Rhodey’s shoulder, her expression completely unreadable. Thor landed a moment later with Bruce, neither looking much the worse for wear other than being covered in dust, though Bruce wore nothing but his trousers.

“We’ll be out of pocket for a while, Assistant Director Hill,” Steve said suddenly over the SHIELD frequency, sounding all business. “Contact JARVIS if we’re needed. We’ve had four missions in as many days and we all need some down time.”

“Of course, Captain,” Maria replied.

“JARVIS, back to our private comms, please.” Phil clumsily opened a small compartment on his armored hip, offering comm units to Bruce and Thor and then waiting for them to put them into their ears before he went on. “Status report, everyone.”

“Not a scratch,” Steve said. “You okay, Tasha? I saw you knocked down a few times.”

“Bruises, Steve,” Natasha said dismissively, “nothing more.”

“All I got is a little cosmetic damage to my armor, boss,” Rhodey added. “Might take JARVIS an hour to fix, if that.”

“I’m fine, too,” Bruce said quietly next, looking calm but tired. “The other guy didn’t argue about leaving after he realized there was nothing left to smash.”

“And I am fit as the fiddle!” Thor finished with a pleased smile, though it faded slightly as he asked, “Where are our shieldbrothers?”

“Clint was injured by falling bricks when he had to go into the building to get off a collapsing fire escape,” Phil said, managing to sound calm even though thinking about how close he came to losing Clint made him want to leap into the air and fly to Clint as fast as his armor could move. “Tony pulled him out as it was coming down and took him to the tower for medical attention.”

Bruce frowned, looking concerned as he said, "We should get back too then, she may need my help."

“She may, yes,” Phil agreed. “Her nurse is on the way in, but her home is across town and she’ll be a while even this time of night.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Rhodey asked.

“Lead on, Son of Coul,” Thor added. “Your lifemate is sure to be difficult without your soothing presence. He has no love for medical treatments despite is fondness for the fair Mikayla.”

Phil didn’t wait to be told again, moving quickly to the edge of the roof and diving off as he activated the repulsors, heading for the tower. A moment later they were all in flight towards the Tower, keeping their speed down in deference to Natasha and Bruce.

 

 

*~*~*

 

Clint slowly woke up, opening his eyes just enough to be blinded by the bright light above him and then quickly closing them again, groggy and confused by the fact that he wasn’t flying with Tony any more. His right shoulder and arm were still throbbing with pain in time with his head and his back, all of it feeling like the Hulk had taken a swing at him and forgot to miss, but everything was a little fuzzy around the edges and he had no idea what had actually happened.

Someone touched him then, and it took Clint a moment to realize that wasn’t Phil or Tony. A needle touched his right shoulder then, barely sinking in before he jerked away, rolling off the table – gurney?! – he was on to land in a crouch several feet away as he used his left hand to jerk the heavy-bladed fighting knife from his left boot.

“Easy, Clint,” Mickey said with a surprised little laugh, holding up her hands so Clint could see that one was empty while the other held a small syringe filled with a clear liquid. “You were hurt pretty badly and Tony brought you home. I was just going to give you a local in that shoulder so I can fix you up, but it can wait a few more minutes if you want. Phil will be here soon.”

Another look around was enough to tell Clint he was in the tower’s infirmary, and he suddenly felt like a complete idiot. Clint looked down, embarrassed and blushing hotly as he put the knife back into his boot. “Sorry, Mick. I just … I woke up and then there was a needle, and yeah.”

Mickey smiled wryly. “It's okay, sweetie. I would have expected it if I realized you were already awake.”

Clint smiled too despite the pain he was in, shifting his feet slightly as he belatedly tried to take stock of what kind of shape he was really in. His body armor felt intact even though it was sticking to his skin down the right side of his back all the way to his waist, but he recognized the distinctive feel of a minor concussion and decided the blood he smelled was probably from a scalp wound. His right arm was radiating a deep aching pain that stretched across his back in a way that seemed familiar, and after a moment he groaned as he realized his arm felt a lot like it had the time he dislocated it and tore a muscle in his back. “What the hell _happened_ to me?”

“You went into that old building _after_ it started to fall,” Tony said sharply, making Clint look towards a nearby door as Tony hurried in, drying his hands. He was wearing scrubs that were several sizes too large, the pants legs rolled up several times above his bare feet. “You’re lucky I was already on the way in to get you out of there. Phil could see what was going on, but he was too far away to have reached you before it was too late.”

Clint shuddered and closed his eyes, barely noticing the way his balance went a little screwy and caused him to sway as he thought about how Phil must feel after having to watch him nearly get himself killed.

“Your concussion isn’t quite as bad as JARVIS thought it was,” Mickey said then, making him open his eyes to look at her. “The scalp wound is very close to an old fracture to your skull, but whatever clobbered you didn’t crack anything new open and I gave you some painkillers so the headache should start to feel better soon. I was giving you a local so I can fix your shoulder when you woke up. The pain injections I gave you can’t even _start_ to make that shoulder feel better until it’s back in the socket and immobilized completely.”

“I remember,” Clint admitted, lifting his left hand to rub at his face. “It feels kind of like the time I fell a couple of stories and landed on it, only worse.”

“That’s because you somehow managed to do even more damage this time,” Mickey said with just a little exasperation, moving towards him finally. “Scans show it’s dislocated with several torn muscles in your back and a hell of a lot of bruising. You must have been hit by a half a _building_ or something.”

“I don’t really remember that part,” Clint admitted. “Nothing after I climbed up the fire escape until Tony was flying me here.” He felt his face flushing. “I think I passed out on him.”

“Twice,” Tony said, nodding. “The fire escape came loose and you went into the building, but it was already collapsing and you got hit by something between there and the window you jumped out of. Your arm was already screwed when you left the building.”

“Huh,” Clint said, frowning as he tried to remember. He remembered climbing up the fire escape ladder and then suddenly Tony was flying over Manhattan _way_ too fast carrying him newlywed-style like some damsel in distress, then what seemed like an instant later he was making a fool out of himself by pulling a knife on Mickey. It wasn’t the _first_ time he had woken up like that, but he hadn’t ever actually pulled a weapon on her before. Usually he was disarmed before anyone tried to give him medical attention. Some old habits died hard, and Clint was a very dangerous man when he was disoriented and hurting.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” JARVIS said suddenly, “but Master Phil is quite anxious to speak to Master Clint.”

“Can you patch him through, buddy?” Clint asked quickly. “And where is he?”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS replied. “The team is en-route to the tower and should arrive within two minutes.”

“Clint?” Phil’s voice asked suddenly.

“I’m here, sir,” Clint said quickly, feeling a little stupid about how relieved he was to hear Phil’s voice. He could tell that Phil was trying hard to sound calmer than he really was, so he didn’t hesitate to add, “And I’m _fine_. Stop panicking, okay? I just hit my head and tore up my shoulder a little. I’ll be sidelined a month, tops.”

“Wonderful,” Phil murmured, sounding so relieved that Clint wished Phil was there so he could _prove_ he was fine.

Mickey smiled and moved to grab Clint’s good arm as she said, “He’s filthy, Phil, but he _will_ be fine, though I figure about _three_ months until he’s up to using his bow again.” Clint looked at her, shocked, and she added, “He’s got some torn muscles in his back that will likely be slow to heal, knowing how he pushes himself.”

Clint made a face, remembering the last time. It had been hell, babying his shoulder until it stopped screaming every time he drew a bow.

“ _Or_ we could get Thor to talk his mom into doing a little healing for him,” Tony said suddenly, making Clint and Mikayla both look at him in surprise. “Darcy told me that Frigga and her ladies can heal any injury and leave barely a scar to show for it.”

“I’m going to pop his shoulder back in _now_ before the damage gets any worse,” Mikayla said firmly, “and then I’ll leave cleaning him up and strapping his arm down to your capable hands, Phil. You’ll have to talk to Thor about whatever it is Frigga does.”

Clint let out a soft snort of a laugh as Phil said dryly, “Thank you so _very_ much, Mikayla.”

Tony snickered and then said cheerfully, “He’s good, Phil, he just looks like he just lost a fight with a brick wall.” He paused slightly. “And I’ve done that, so I would know.”

Mickey laughed. “He does not, he’s just dirty!”

“And bloody,” Tony countered, amused. “That scalp wound bled like a stuck pig until you glued it shut.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” Clint said quickly, “I’m not hurt that bad.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna be fine,” Tony agreed, still looking amused. “Just pretend it’s someone else’s blood when you see him, Phil.”

“I’ll try to,” Phil agreed, definitely amused. “We’ll be there soon, Clint. We’re a hundred yards from the tower now.”

“Take your time getting out of the armor and changing clothes, sir,” Clint said easily. “I’m not going anywhere.” He grinned. “Well, besides the shower.”

“Which would be why I _am_ in a hurry,” Phil pointed out, amused. “Coulson out.”

“Master Phil was first to the landing pad,” JARVIS said a moment later. “He is rather impatient to get to you, Master Clint.”

Clint smiled, feeling warm. “Keep an eye on him for me, buddy.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS agreed.

Tony smiled and patted Mickey’s shoulder, murmuring, “C’mon Mick, let’s get this show on the road. That shoulder won’t fix itself.”

Mickey nodded and started guiding Clint towards the gurney again. “You can help, right boss?”

“Yep,” Tony agreed quickly. “I’ve done surgery on myself a few dozen times with a mirror and an overly-anxious AI giving me instructions, and I put my own shoulder back in one time with the help of a robot too stupid to stay in out of the rain. I can totally handle this.”

"Great," Mickey said, pleased. "JARVIS, let Nora know we can get by without her. I'm sure she'd like to head back home to bed instead of coming in."

"I will do so immediately, Doctor," JARVIS agreed.

“And while he does that, let's get this over with,” Clint said, climbing carefully back onto the gurney when he got to it. “’Cause when you two are done, I’m going to head for the nearest shower and get cleaned up.” He gave Tony and Mickey a wry smile, adding, “I’d rather Phil doesn’t see me so bloody. He doesn’t need the panic attack just because I got a little stupid.”

There was a slight pause and then JARVIS spoke again, sounding very amused. “Miss Nora is on her way home, and Master Phil says to wait for him before you try to shower, Master Clint. He doesn’t want you using all the hot water.”

Tony laughed. “The hot water _never_ runs out!”

“I don’t care,” Phil’s voice said suddenly, sounding very amused. “I intend to wash every inch of Clint to see for myself how badly he is hurt.”

Clint carefully lowered himself onto his left side on the gurney, wincing at how much it hurt to lay down, and then relaxed as best he could and said, “I’m fine, sir, but I will be glad to share a shower with you.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Phil replied quietly, sounding pleased. “And then I intend to fall into bed with you and sleep for at _least_ six hours.”

“Eventually,” Clint said with a smirk. “Like I said earlier, I have _plans_ for tonight.”

“After I am through with you in the shower, you’ll be ready to let me sleep,” Phil said smugly.

“In that case, I’ll be happy to let you give me a bath, sir,” Clint said with a wide grin.

“You’d better be,” Phil agreed, sounding smug still. “I’ll be there just as soon as I pull on some clothes.”

“I’ll be waiting, babe,” Clint murmured, trying to ignore the fact Mikayla was moving towards his right shoulder again with the syringe. “Love you.”

“I love you too, darling,” Phil said, his voice shifted to something warm and loving. “Do whatever Mikayla says, I’ll be with you soon.”

“I’ll be good,” Clint agreed, and then he closed his eyes just before he felt the sting of the needle going into his shoulder, followed by an odd spreading coldness that made him shudder. The drug started making it difficult to move then, and the sudden helpless feeling combined with the cold to remind him of the way it had felt when Loki touched him. He was on the edge of panic when he felt Tony grab his good hand to hold on tight.

“Easy, Clint, I've got you," Tony said quickly, his free hand suddenly warm against Clint's cheek. "You’re safe at home. Just relax.”

“Tony?” Phil’s voice asked sharply. “What’s happening?”

Clint fought for control enough to let him speak. “’M okay.”

“He’s fine,” Tony agreed. “I’ve got it covered, Phil. He had a flashback, but he's already throwing it off.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Phil said quietly, sounding relieved.

“Nothing to thank me for,” Tony said calmly, still holding Clint’s hand tightly.

“Well, at least Clint will wait for you before he showers, Phil,” Mickey said then, her smug tone at odd with how gently she stroked Clint’s hair as she went on. “I just gave him enough of the knock-out juice he got Bruce to make for him to keep him still half an hour at least, even as fast as his metabolism is.”

Clint was barely able to force his mouth to move as he mumbled, “Bitch.”

“Love you too, sweetie,” Mickey replied with a laugh, leaning down to kiss his cheek soundly.

Clint began to feel consciousness slipping away then, a hollow roaring sound slowly filling his ears to drown out everything else until he passed out a few moments later.

 

 

*~*~*

 

Bruce hadn’t lingered over showering and changing clothes, worried about Clint even though JARVIS had reassured him twice that Mikayla and Tony had everything under control. He had been mostly dressed by the time Steve finished putting away his armor, and Steve had barely had time to take off his boots and shirt before Bruce was hurrying out into the hall. He had excellent – though very hard-won – control of his _temper_ , but watching one of his extremely attractive partners stripping down was a completely different concept, and he lost his save versus libido every time if he remained in the same room.

“Doctor Mikayla wishes for me to let you know that your aid won’t be needed in the infirmary after all, Master Bruce,” JARVIS said suddenly. “Master Clint’s dislocated shoulder has been put back into place, and his head injury is minor enough that she believes Master Phil to be quite capable of handling it without anyone else’s aid.”

“Thank you for letting me know, JARVIS,” Bruce said, bemused. “Thank Mickey, too.”

“Done, sir,” JARVIS replied just as the elevator doors opened right in front of Bruce and Tony practically burst out of it, grinning widely.

Tony grabbed Bruce quickly to pull him in for a very thorough kiss before he pulled back and asked brightly, “Are you hungry? I’m _starving_.”

Bruce laughed softly. “I’m always hungry after a battle. You know that.”

“Great!” Tony said happily, kissing him soundly again before he slipped past and headed for their room. “Tash and Rhodey are in the lab with Thor, trying to decide what to eat. Rhodey wants pizza, Tasha’s talking sushi, and I suggested steaks. Thor wants it all with a case of Pop Tarts for dessert.” He didn’t give Bruce a chance to say anything in reply, ducking quickly into their bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Bruce snorted softly to himself in amusement and turned back to the still-open elevator, moving inside as he said, “Lab please, JARVIS.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS responded. “Master Stark says that he and Master Steve will be along soon.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Bruce said dryly, smiling.

“I believe we all have, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding very amused as the elevator opened again to let Bruce walk out into the lab.

 

*~*~*

 

“Sir, there is someone in the lobby that claims to be a friend of yours,” JARVIS said, his tone of voice sounding just a bit odd.

“Who is it?” Steve asked, tugging his shirt down and then glancing up at the camera above the closet door.

There was a very brief pause and then JARVIS said carefully, “He says he is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, sir.”

Steve scowled, suddenly angry. “Tell whoever it is that they’re _not_ funny and to get the fuck out of here.”

Tony stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of boxers and looking shocked. “Babe. You don’t even say fuck when we _are_ fucking!”

Steve flushed, not meeting Tony’s gaze as he moved to get his favorite boots, the Doc Martens he had bought with Tony’s Centurion card the day after he moved into the tower, what seemed like years ago. “Don’t start, Tony. I cuss, I just don’t do it constantly like _some people_.”

“Sir,” JARVIS said gently, “I suspect our guest might actually be telling the truth. The limited scanners I have in the lobby show no inconsistencies with Sergeant Barnes’ vital statistics.”

The nearest window flashed black and then there was suddenly an almost life-sized image showing someone that looked achingly familiar to Steve. The man was wearing ragged old fatigue pants and an Army-surplus jacket that did nothing to disguise his wide shoulders and stocky build. “ _Please_ ask Steve to at _least_ come talk to me,” the man was pleading to the ‘receptionist’, completely unaware that at that time of night it was a hologram under JARVIS’ control. “I can _prove_ I’m me. I know stuff about him he’d _never_ tell anyone else.”

Steve stared at the video a few moments, fighting down a surge of anger and pain before he managed to growl out, “JARVIS, let me talk to him.”

There was a soft beep as the ‘receptionist’ in the video touched his ear and then JARVIS’ voice said in both Steve’s bedroom and the lobby many floors below, “Of course, sir. He can hear you now.”

“I don’t appreciate whatever hoax you’re pulling, mister,” Steve said quickly, barely aware of how hard and cold his tone of voice was. “Get out and be glad I don’t turn you over to the authorities for impersonating a war hero.”

“Steve!” the man exclaimed, looking all around. “Steve, please, just _listen_ to me. I didn’t die when I fell off that train, I just fell in a half-frozen river and got hurt real bad. Some Russians dragged me into a base dug into one side of that canyon and one of them said they would help me just before I passed out, and then about a month ago I woke up in the cargo hold of a Russian freighter and they told me all kinds of crazy things. They dumped me at the docks when they got to Jersey and told me to go home, only home isn’t even _there_ anymore and the whole damn world’s gone weird on me. I was about ready to give up when I heard you’re here doing the Captain America thing, but I knew you’d know what’s going on. You _always_ know, you’ve been smarter than me since you were _five_.”

“It’s not _possible_ ,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Buck _died_. I was there, I watched him fall.”

“I landed in that river,” the man repeated earnestly, and if Steve hadn’t _known_ Bucky was dead he would have sworn it was him. “I got beat to hell by the rapids and washed away, I don’t know how far.” He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and then grabbed the hem of the frayed sweater under it, ripping it off over his head to drop it on the jacket. All he wore under it was a tattered, dirty tank top that was tight enough to make it plain he was probably thirty or forty pounds underweight, but that wasn’t the biggest difference from the Bucky that Steve had known. The man had a shining silver prosthesis where his left arm should be, as well as dozens of scars that Bucky had never had, but what Steve could see of the tattoo of Steve’s shield on the right side of his chest looked just like Steve remembered it. “I ended up losing an arm, but somehow they kept me alive I guess. I don’t remember any of it, I just know that the one person in this fucked up world I can _always_ count on is Stevie Rogers.”

Steve just stared for several moments before Tony moved next to him and murmured gently, “JARVIS should be able to confirm his identity, match it up to the DNA sample taken after you pulled him out of that Hydra base. Maybe Zola’s experiments on him actually worked. He _was_ given a version of the super soldier serum.”

“But I didn’t get beefed up or anything like you, Steve,” the man said, frowning. “And who’s that with you? How does he know so much about it? I thought all that shit was classified so deep _we_ weren’t even supposed to remember it, and we were both _there_.”

“He’s my partner, Tony,” Steve said quietly, “and he knows everything about me.” He was quiet for a few moments, thinking, and then looked at Tony. “You really think it could be him, baby?”

“I think it’s possible,” Tony agreed. “Definitely worth checking out.”

“Baby?” the man in the lobby echoed, sounding shocked enough that Steve winced slightly, but Tony ignored him.

“He looks just like Dad’s photos of Bucky Barnes,” Tony went on, “and what he’s saying seems plausible. _You_ survived all those years frozen in a plane, after all. Maybe the Russians froze _him_ somehow until they had the tech to fix what happened to him.”

Steve gazed at Tony for a moment longer and then turned back to the viewscreen. “JARVIS, let him come up to the lab. You’ve got the scanners there to find out who he really is, right?”

“I do indeed, Captain,” JARVIS agreed, and then the holographic receptionist down in the lobby pointed towards the private elevator, which opened on cue. “If you would, sir?”

The man claiming to be Bucky hesitated slightly and then nodded, grabbing his jacket and sweater out of the floor and then hurrying towards the open elevator as he said, “Boy, Stevie, you’ve sure got some _explaining_ to do, no doubt about _that_. Besides the boyfriend, there is some seriously Buck Rogers shit in this building.” He snorted. “Hell, _everywhere._ ”

Steve looked away from the viewscreen, which disappeared when the elevator doors closed, but he didn’t really notice it. He was too busy trying to sort out the anger, pain, hope, and even fear that he was feeling in a great jumbled mess. He had wished for Bucky to come back ever since the moment Buck fell out of that train so high over a river whose unpronounceable name Steve forgot before they ever even saw it, but he had _never_ believed it was possible. The man who was claiming to be Bucky couldn’t _really_ be him, it was too good to be true, but that didn’t stop him from being painfully familiar. Steve knew those eyes, and that voice, and even that _body_ , and it was hell to see him again and know it was all a lie.

“You need to put your boots on, sweetheart,” Tony said very gently, lifting one hand to brush Steve’s hair back from his face. Steve had been meaning to get a haircut for weeks but he hadn’t been able to find the time, and his hair was getting long enough to fall into his eyes like it used to when he was still just a skinny little guy from Brooklyn.

Steve met Tony’s gaze and swallowed hard before he murmured, “It _can’t_ be him. People don’t come back from the dead.”

“Says the man who did it,” Tony teased, smiling softly. “It _is_ possible, Steve. I’ve read everything written about the super soldier project _including_ the files seized from that train detailing Zola’s work up to that point, and from all I know he was pretty damned close to getting it right. Maybe by some fluke of luck or genetics it worked for Bucky.”

Steve took a slow deep breath, letting it out gradually before he admitted, “Bucky always was luckier than he had a right to be.”

Tony’s smile widened. “And if anyone in this _universe_ deserves to have their best friend return from the grave, it’s you.”

Steve didn’t reply as he pulled Tony into an embrace, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice that he was shaking. The very idea that Bucky might not be dead after all made him suddenly feel almost sick with guilt and pain. Being forced not to recover his dead best friend’s body had been devastating enough, but the thought he might possibly have left Bucky alone and hurt in some remote mountain river in the depth of winter was too appalling for words.

 

 

*~*~*

 

Bruce was still waiting on the couch in the lab for Tony and Steve to show up fifteen minutes after he saw Tony, fairly sure that they had gotten distracted. Well, gotten laid most likely, but with Tony that was practically the same thing if he saw Steve even partially naked. Steve was helpless against Tony’s charms when Tony started kissing Steve and trying to climb him like a tree, but Bruce didn’t mind. Steve couldn’t resist Bruce either, and Tony getting laid before dinner would mean that it was Bruce’s turn afterwards. Waiting a little while to eat wouldn’t kill any of them.

Tasha, Thor, and Rhodey were all still there, lounging comfortably in the nearby chairs while they all waited for Steve and Tony to get there so they could vote on dinner. Rhodey was sprawled in Clint’s favorite chair with Tasha perched on the arm of it, both of them bright-eyed and looking happy as they quietly discussed what to eat. Bruce had a sneaking suspicion that neither of them expected to go to bed anytime soon even though he was sure they had been awake even longer than the twenty hours he had been up, but he wasn’t about to try to talk them out of an all-night gabfest.

Tasha and Pepper had been growing apart recently, or more precisely Pepper had been pulling away – to Japan in fact, at least that week – to the point she had hired a new assistant and moved out of Avengers Tower into a loft apartment she had recently bought in Queens. Tasha seemed to show no real pain over the fact that Pepper had moved out, but Bruce was sure that it was upsetting Tasha more than it seemed. She was very good at hiding her feelings, but she had been sticking close to the rest of the team and staying quiet enough that Bruce was glad that Rhodey seemed to be spending more time with her. Rhodey was just the distraction Tasha needed as far as Bruce was concerned, and the two of them seemed to be getting along better every day.

Thor was oblivious to them all, beaming happily as he sprawled in another chair and carefully texted back and forth with Jane, or maybe Darcy, Bruce wasn’t really sure. Jane’s current grants were set to run out in just a few weeks, which would free her and Darcy to finally make the move to New York to accept the jobs Tony had offered them in Avengers Tower. Jane’s exact job title seemed to change as often as Tony changed clothes, but Bruce knew that Jane could hardly wait to get her hands on the lab next to the family room that doubled as a lab when any of them wanted to tinker. Jane wanted Tony’s help with the mechanical aspects of the Bifrost, and Tony and Bruce were both looking forward to working with her, as was Rhodey, who it turned out had a doctorate in engineering just like Tony did, though Rhodey had seldom made use of it for much other than tinkering with Tony’s toys.

Darcy was looking forward to the move to Avengers Tower as much as Jane was, though for very different reasons. She had declared she was going to be the team’s mascot and PR manager, and that she wanted her own catsuit like Tasha wore when she was on duty, but she had flatly refused to sleep on the same _floor_ as Thor and Jane. Evidently Thor’s last visit to see Jane had been so loud Darcy could hear them even with several rooms between them, and Darcy didn’t want to have the slightest chance she’d hear Jane scream about Thor’s prowess in bed ever again. Tony had called in his favorite contractor, and Jake had been at work for over a week on the main floor of the Avengers’ home, ripping out the three offices and replacing them with a bathroom that was accessible to the public areas of the main floor and a large bedroom and private bathroom built exactly to Darcy’s specifications, including heavy-duty noise canceling foam insulation in all the walls.

Pepper had moved her things out of her office in the tower the day she moved out of Tasha’s suite, and Tony’s one-time office had been converted to a guest room months ago, so no one had really used the offices anymore. Phil hadn’t used his office since the Chitauri invasion, and had declared on more than one occasion that he never wanted another desk job. Fury had tried repeatedly to pull Phil back into SHIELD as an agent or even as a specialist, but Phil had refused every time until he finally got tired of Fury’s attempts and offered to act as one of SHIELD’s consultants instead so he no longer had to do any paperwork. If he actually needed an office again someday for some unforeseen reason, they were living in a tower full of them, so it wasn’t as if the office had been irreplaceable.

Bruce was in a similar situation as far as his private lab went, so it hadn’t been hard for him to convince Tony to give the space to Jane. Bruce worked in _a_ lab daily, yes, but he hadn’t used his _own_ lab more than twice in the year he had lived in the Tower, and he had no plans to change that because he had found he much preferred working with someone else to bounce ideas off of. The expensive medical testing equipment that Tony had gotten for Bruce before he even moved in had all been moved down to a lab below the private clinic and trauma center Mickey was running on the thirty-eighth floor, two floors below the maintenance level for the Avengers’ penthouse. Bruce would be working down there with Mickey when he felt the inspiration to work in the medical field, and Mickey had happily agreed to work with him, should he need it. Mickey was very intelligent and had a wide base of practical medical knowledge in addition to her specialized training as a trauma surgeon, and Bruce was sure the two of them could accomplish much more for the good of the world than Bruce ever had before the accident.

The elevator opened and Bruce looked over, surprised to see Phil and Clint walk slowly out of it instead of Steve and Tony, who he had expected to show soon. Clint’s hair was wet and he looked freshly-scrubbed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts with his right arm strapped against his bare chest in a brace that held it completely immobilized. Phil looked like he had just gotten out of a shower as well, though he wore a set of his own sweats that made him look much younger than he did in the suits he loved so much.

Clint was obviously groggy still and was definitely pouting as he muttered, “You skipped dinner too, babe, and I’m hungry.”

Phil _looked_ calm, but Bruce could tell he was more agitated than usual as he helped Clint towards the sitting area despite how reasonable Phil sounded when he said, “I can bring something up to our room for us to share. You should be _resting_.”

“I can _rest_ in my chair, sir,” Clint said quickly, “so stop treating me like an _invalid_ just because I fucked up my shoulder again. I’d be _fine_ if Mickey hadn’t pulled a fast one with that damned ‘local anesthetic’ she said she was going to give me. My knockout juice is _supposed_ to put people on the floor and make ’em miserable, but it’s _not_ supposed to be used on _me_.”

Bruce’s lips twitched slightly as he fought back a laugh, thinking it was very like Mikayla to use Clint’s own weapon against him. Bruce may have been the one to actually synthesize the tranquilizing compound, but only after Clint did all the research and brought him everything he needed to make it possible. Clint had dubbed the tranquilizer ‘knockout juice’ and was justifiably proud of how well it worked, dropping a grown man in seconds and leaving him out cold for around twenty minutes and then weak as a kitten for nearly an hour after regaining consciousness. It was perfect for use in their line of work, doing no lasting harm but capable of quickly knocking out the occasional mad scientist or over-stressed college student.

Rhodey and Tasha got up out of Clint’s chair, moving over to the couch next to Bruce as Phil sighed and gave in. “Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

Clint lowered himself gingerly into his chair, wincing as his back touched it and then slowly relaxing as he gave Phil a skeptical, slightly wary look. “Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that,” Phil replied, nodding as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned one hip against the side of Clint’s chair. “I won’t ask again until after we’ve all eaten.” He paused slightly. “Of course, if you won’t come upstairs to bed with me _then_ , you just might find yourself sleeping on the couch.”

Clint looked rather bemused by that, but he didn’t have a chance to say anything before JARVIS suddenly spoke up.

“I believe I should warn you all that there is a visitor on the way up.”

Bruce looked up at the nearest camera in surprise, murmuring, “In the middle of the night?”

“Who is it, JARVIS?” Phil asked, curious.

“That is as yet to be determined, Master Phil,” JARVIS replied a bit diffidently. “The man claims to be Sergeant James Barnes, and a visual inspection seems to bear out his claims. The Captain is understandably distressed by this, and Master Stark wants me to make a positive ID with the more comprehensive sensors available to me here in the lab.”

Phil let his hands fall as he turned and walked quickly towards the workbench that was now usually more busy than ever, used by Tony, Bruce, Rhodey, and even Clint, who had a surprising aptitude with machinery and often gave Tony and Rhodey ideas they turned into upgrades to the armors. “Bucky Barnes fell over a thousand feet and _died_ seventy years ago, JARVIS.”

“Captain Steven Rogers crashed a plane into the ocean and ‘died’ soon after that, Master Phil,” JARVIS countered, “and yet he is here, healthy and whole. Logic does not always govern the situation when the super soldier serum is involved.”

Bruce frowned, standing to walk over to join Phil. “Bucky had the super soldier serum?”

“Yes, Master Bruce,” JARVIS replied. “Sergeant James Barnes was given a version of the serum by Doctor Arnim Zola while prisoner in a Hydra facility approximately five months before his death. Medical equipment available at the time was unable to ascertain exactly what effects the serum had on him, but blood samples were preserved by Howard Stark to be tested more thoroughly at such time as it became possible. After the Captain’s apparent death, however, Howard Stark lost interest in the super soldier project in favor of trying to recover the Captain himself, and James Barnes’ blood remained in Vermont in a sealed vault with all other records of the project until Obadiah Stane discovered it approximately ten years ago.”

“And Tony never said anything about it?” Phil said, surprised.

“After he learned of what happened when just a portion of the information was released to the US military, Master Stark felt that the project had too much potential for abuse to be continued,” JARVIS said primly. “I agreed, and I was happy to aid Master Stark in his quest to see that the project was terminated.”

“That’s where they got the information I based my research on, isn’t it?” Bruce asked softly, shocked.

“It is, Master Bruce,” JARVIS agreed, quiet and sounding sad. “Master Stark and I knew nothing of Stane’s connections to the super soldier project until long after the fact, but we have endeavored to remove all trace of the data from government servers since that time.”

“That was you!” Phil exclaimed, surprised and looking like he might laugh. “Fury was mad as hell when that ‘virus’ wiped out so much of the super soldier project last year, but he never even _suspected_ you or Tony.”

“I am very good at my job, sir,” JARVIS replied, enough smugness in his tone that it made Bruce smile.

 The elevator binged suddenly and then the doors opened to reveal a scruffy-looking man with shaggy unkempt hair and surprisingly clear, intelligent brown eyes. Bruce had seen that face many times before in the photos and drawings of Bucky that Steve had, and it was a little surreal to see it in reality. The man was dressed much like Bruce had been when he was living on the street and looked like he had been homeless for a while, ragged and dirty in Army surplus clothes – or possibly his actual uniform from the forties, Bruce thought, unsure of what was issued then – and very underweight compared to the pictures Bruce had seen of him.

“Uh, I thought I was meeting Steve here,” the man said slowly, taking only one step out of the elevator and then looking around warily as the doors closed behind him, his gaze finally stopping on Phil as the closest and oldest of them, Bruce was sure. “Steve Rogers. The guy at the desk downstairs said he’d be here.”

“He will,” Phil agreed with a slight reassuring smile for the man, “but at the moment he’s still in his suite.” He glanced away, his gaze finding a nearby camera. “JARVIS, where do you need him for the testing?”

“Anywhere will be fine, Master Phil,” JARVIS replied.

“What kind of testing?” the man who looked like Bucky asked.

The young man was obviously wary and possibly even scared as he looked around, trying to find JARVIS, and Bruce decided to assume he _was_ Bucky until proven differently. He looked like Bucky, and he acted like someone who knew that he was deep in unfamiliar territory, reminding Bruce strongly of Tony’s stolen footage of Steve’s first two days at SHIELD headquarters.

“I will need a DNA sample,” JARVIS replied promptly. “Master Bruce will simply need to rub the inside of your cheek with a pipette, sir.”

“That’s all,” Bucky half-asked, still wary.

“You have my word,” JARVIS replied calmly. “All other testing is being done remotely even as we speak.”

Bucky froze. “What do you mean, _remotely_?”

“My sensors have already scanned your height, weight, and retinal patterns, as well as doing a full course of x-rays including dental,” JARVIS replied patiently. A small portion of the workbench’s marble surface lowered and then slid to one side to allow a slender robotic arm to emerge, the four-fingered claw on the end holding the kind of plastic-encased q-tip that was often used by law enforcement agencies for DNA testing. “This is the pipette Master Bruce will use. You are welcome to inspect it if you wish, sir.”

Bruce moved closer to the workbench, glad that JARVIS didn’t need to use a blood testing for the DNA match. He had a feeling that Bucky would be less than happy to let complete strangers take a blood sample.

Bucky looked at the robotic arm for several long moments and then looked at Bruce. “I guess you’re Bruce.”

Bruce nodded, smiling at Bucky. “Doctor Bruce Banner.”

“Nice to meet ‘cha,” Bucky replied. “Name’s Buck. Who or what is JARVIS?”

“I am JARVIS,” JARVIS replied, sounding slightly amused. “I am an artificial intelligence that was created by Anthony Edward Stark to aid him in his efforts to make the world a better place.” He paused slightly and then added with even more amusement, “And I assure you I am far more advanced than anything _Buck Rogers_ ever dreamed of.”

Bruce chuckled softly, wondering where that comment had come from but thinking it was surprisingly apt if Bucky was who he said he was.

“ _Artificial intelligence_?” Bucky echoed, looking shocked.

“Just A Really Very Intelligent System,” JARVIS replied, definitely amused this time. “A computer, sir. A very highly developed one.”

“And this Anthony guy? Tony?” Bucky asked. “Is that Howard Stark’s brother? Cousin, maybe?”

“His son, sir,” JARVIS replied. “I am sure you suspect it already, but it has been a very long time since Captain America and the Howling Commandoes attacked a train in the Russian mountains.”

Bucky was quiet for several moments and then asked softly, “How long was I out of it?”

“Approximately seventy years, sir,” JARVIS replied gently. “Please allow Master Bruce to take the sample. If the results are as I suspect, Master Steve will tell you the full story himself very soon.”

Bucky swallowed hard and then moved to stand by Bruce. “Well, I guess that explains why everything’s changed so much, huh?” He gave Bruce a crooked little smile, but his brown eyes were wary and even a little panicky.

Bruce impulsively reached out to put his hand on Bucky’s forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze and then going wide-eyed at the feel of something harder than flesh under his hand.

Bucky flushed and pulled his arm away. “I lost an arm.” He shifted his feet, adding, “Can we just get this over with?”

“Of course,” Bruce agreed, reaching to take the pipette from JARVIS’ hand and then opening the container. “Open your mouth, please, and we’ll be done in a few seconds.”

Bucky did as he was told, opening his mouth wide and then holding very still for Bruce to rub the q-tip along the inside of his cheek.

Bruce pulled the pipette back, closing it and then offering it back to JARVIS’ robotic hand as he smiled at Bucky. “All done.”

Bucky looked surprised, watching the robotic arm disappear back into the marble-topped workbench, which closed seamlessly over it. “That’s it?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes, and it won’t take JARVIS long at all to do the testing.”

“Approximately eighty-three seconds, sir,” JARVIS said.

“See?” Bruce said, smiling at Bucky before he looked up at JARVIS’ camera above the viewscreen behind the bar. “JARVIS, is Steve on the way down yet?”

JARVIS hesitated and then replied, “I believe that Master Steve has decided to find out who our guest is before he sees him again, sir. He is nearby but … rather upset.”

Bruce was very aware of Bucky listening, but that didn’t stop him from asking, “Tony’s taking care of him?”

“Master Stark is doing his best to reassure him, yes,” JARVIS replied. “It was quite a shock for him to see our guest on the monitor.”

“He could see me when we talked?” Bucky asked, suddenly looking kind of upset himself.

“Yes, sir, he could,” JARVIS said. “It seems to Master Steve as though it has been barely a year since he watched you die. He blamed himself for your death, which makes the thought he may have abandoned you in enemy territory, injured and alone, that much more traumatic for him.”

“I thought you said it’s been seventy years?” Bucky asked, confused.

“It’s a very long story, sir,” JARVIS said, and then paused before he went on very gently, “but you are home now, Master Barnes. Master Steve will be here within moments to answer your questions himself.”

“So it’s all true?” Bruce asked, surprised.

“Of course it’s true!” Bucky said, giving Bruce a dirty look.

“I cannot vouch for Master Barnes’ story, Master Bruce,” JARVIS corrected, “but I can confirm without a doubt that this _is_ James Buchanan Barnes, once a Sergeant in the US Army and currently listed as missing in action but presumed dead. Dental records, x-rays, records of childhood injuries, and DNA are all a perfect match to records obtained by Howard Stark after Master Barnes was freed from the first Hydra prison camp that was destroyed by Captain America.”

The door to the stairs opened suddenly and both Bruce and Bucky looked towards the sound. Tony was the first into the lab, leading Steve by the hand as he said gently, “JARVIS would _never_ tell you that this guy is really Bucky unless he was completely sure, babe. Even a shapeshifter can’t mimic DNA or x-rays.”

Steve didn’t reply to Tony, instead staring at Bucky, who quickly walked past Bruce and then stopped about five feet from Steve and Tony. He held very still, just staring at Steve for a few moments before he murmured gruffly, “You need a haircut, punk.”

Steve let out a surprised little laugh and let go of Tony’s hand as he took a step forward, his blue eyes shining and wet even though there were no tears on his face. “And you need a bath.”

“Why should today be different?” Bucky asked, his voice still a little rough, and then suddenly he was moving towards Steve, who moved to meet him and then they were holding each other tightly. “I’m sorry, Stevie,” Bucky murmured just loudly enough for Bruce to hear him, his right hand smoothing down Steve’s hair. “I never should have tried to use your shield, I _knew_ you’re stronger now than I ever thought about being.”

Steve pulled back away from Bucky, looking stricken. “I’m so sorry I didn’t look for you myself, but I didn’t think there was any way someone could survive that kind of fall. Colonel Phillips _promised me_ he had a team on the way downriver to recover your body, but he needed me to keep after Schmidt. They rushed me straight from the train into preparing for the next mission, and that led to finding Schmidt’s stronghold and then I ended up crashing a plane into the Arctic Ocean. I woke up in a building not far from here about a year ago.”

“And now somehow you’re callin’ Stark’s _son_ baby,” Bucky added, giving Steve a searching look. “I always thought you and Peggy—“

“I loved Peggy,” Steve interrupted quietly, “I wanted to _marry her_ , Buck, but then I crashed a plane saving the world, and when I woke up she had been dead and gone for years, and the whole world had gone on without me.” He paused and then added softly, “And now I don’t have to hide the fact I prefer men anymore. There’s never been any other girl besides Peggy for me, and never will be.” He took a step back away from Bucky, looking worried even though he was trying to hide it as he looked over at Tony and held his hand out. Tony moved quickly to take Steve’s hand, and Steve gave him a soft little smile before he looked back at Bucky, his chin lifting slightly. “I’m queer. I always was.”

“Hell, Stevie, I knew that when you were _ten_ ,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Just, a _Stark_? If he’s anything like his dad, he’s _way_ too wild for you, buddy.” He smirked and teased, “He’ll be after you trying to get you to _fondue_ all over the place.”

Steve blushed, laughing. “Maybe _I’m_ the one chasing _him_.”

“It works well for us either way,” Tony added, smirking. “I never run from him.”

Bucky laughed, giving Tony a measuring look. “Smart, if you want Stevie to catch you. He’s shy as hell, and terrible at gettin’ any.”

“ _Was_ terrible, maybe,” Tony disagreed, still smirking. “Now he’s getting plenty of play.” He looked at Steve, tugging gently at Steve’s hand as he teased, “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Steve’s face was beet red as he countered, “No more than you do, Tony.”

Tony smirked, smug. “Yes, well, people have always thought it would take more than one person in my bed to keep _me_ from straying.”

“Damn, Stevie, how many guys are you makin’ whoopee _with_?” Bucky asked, looking very surprised and even a little proud as he looked around the room, his gaze flicking first to Bruce and then to Phil before he looked across the room to where Thor, Rhodey, and Tasha were all standing near Clint’s chair. His eyes widened slightly as he finally spotted Dummy, who had snuck around to peek over the back of the couch, but he didn’t stare at the robot for much more than a second before his gaze returned to Steve.

Steve blushed even redder, looking a little indignant. “I’m in a _committed relationship_ with _two people_ , Buck. _Two_. Tony and Bruce, not everyone in the room! Phil’s _married,_ and Thor’s got a girl, and so does Tasha for that matter!”

“That is not _precisely_ true, Steve,” Tasha admitted, making everyone turn towards her in surprise except for Rhodey. Her chin lifted as she added, “Pepper and I are no longer together.”

“But it’s not _permanent_ , surely,” Phil said, obviously surprised.

Tasha hesitated slightly and then said, “Pepper has begun dating Happy Hogan and seems quite happy with him. He is always at her beck and call, after all, and I will never be able to give her that.” She smiled crookedly. “A very good friend once told me that I am too good to settle for anyone who expects to change me, so I have decided to move on as well.”

“I’m sorry, Tasha,” Phil said quietly, looking a bit sad.

“I will survive,” Tasha replied, smiling wider even though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Pepper’s decision to leave wasn’t unexpected.” She looked over at Tony, her smile turning wry and finally reaching her eyes again as she added, “It isn’t as though I didn’t know her history of running away when things get serious.”

“And she says _I_ have commitment issues, can you believe it?” Tony said, giving Tasha a crooked little grin. “Never ask a woman to marry you. It only leads to trouble.”

“Yes, I discovered that,” Tasha agreed wryly, making Bruce’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Okay, wait,” Bucky said suddenly, making them all look at him. Bucky looked a bit confused as he half-asked, “Steve, you’re shacked up with Tony, but he was also with this looker’s ex, some dingy dame who didn’t want to marry her _or_ a guy with as much cabbage as a Stark?” He looked Tony over appraisingly. “I mean, yeah, he’s a Stark, so he’s probably an asshole, but it’s not like he’s _ugly_ or nothin’, and Howard always used to joke he could buy _God_ if he wanted to so the guy’s gotta be loaded.” Something else obviously occurred to him because he didn’t give anyone a chance to speak before he looked at Steve again and asked, “And since when can two _dames_ get married, anyway? Last I knew it was considered kinky as all hell to try to get a couple of ladies to even _kiss_.” He grinned suddenly, wicked and dirty. “Not that I never _did it_ , but yeah.”

Steve snorted, looking equal parts amused and exasperated as he reached out and cuffed Bucky lightly on the side of the head, making Bucky’s unkempt brown hair fall over his face. “You’re the real Buck, alright.”

Bucky grinned wider at Steve, brushing his hair back out of his eyes. “The one and only, punk.”

“Are we all still gonna eat or what?” Clint asked suddenly, making everyone look at him in surprise. He had turned to sit sideways in his chair so he could see everyone, and was smiling slightly as he added, “If we don’t let Hannah know we’re coming soon she’ll be shut down for the night by the time we can get there, and then one of _us_ will have to cook.”

“I am starving,” Tasha said firmly. “I vote that we go down to the restaurant immediately.”

“Same here,” Rhodey agreed, smiling.

“As do I, my friends!” Thor agreed, grinning widely. “The warrior maiden Darcy has been teasing me with descriptions of all the delicacies she misses from her childhood in our fair city and has succeeded in making me most ravenous.”

Tony snickered and looked at Steve. “Steve? You hungry?”

Steve looked at Tony and then at Bruce as he said slowly, “I could eat, but we _did_ have dinner earlier…”

“Our earlier meal was quite some time ago, sweetheart,” Bruce pointed out, smiling at Steve. “And I’d be willing to hazard a guess that Bucky is hungry as well.”

Steve looked over at Bucky. “Are you, Buck?”

“I could stand a square meal or three, for sure,” Bucky replied, looking a little sheepish.

“Then it’s settled!” Tony said quickly, grinning wide and happy. “JARVIS, let Hannah know we’re on the way down.”

“Already done, sir,” JARVIS replied, amused. “Chef Hannah just sent her wait staff home for the night, but the kitchen staff would be happy to cook for you all.”

“Awesome!” Tony said, still grinning as he looked around. “Well, what’re we waiting for?”

“This place have a shower,” Bucky asked suddenly, “and maybe some clean clothes I can borrow?”

“Definitely,” Steve said, grinning. “You can wear my clothes, I know, and Bruce’s.” He tilted his head, looking Bucky over before he added, “Maybe Clint’s, too, as much weight as you’ve lost.”

“And Clint is?” Bucky asked, curious.

“My husband,” Phil said calmly, smiling as he gestured over to Clint, who waved his good left hand with a slight smirk. “As of a year ago tomorrow.”

Bucky looked kind of shocked even as he said, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Clint replied, pleased and already looking much better than he had when Phil brought him out of the elevator.

Phil was smiling warmly at Bucky as he added, “Thank you, Sergeant.”

Bucky made a face. “Oh hell no, I’m not in the military anymore. The war’s over, the Russians on that ship told me that right after I woke up. If it’s really been seventy years, I’m sure the brass forgot all about me by now.”

“We can worry about the Army later,” Steve said firmly, amused. “Right now, we need to get you that shower and some clean clothes so we can go eat.”

“He can clean up after dinner,” Tony corrected, smiling at Steve before he turned to Bucky. “There’s plenty of people to mooch off of for something to wear later, and we can go shopping tomorrow to get you outfitted with your own stuff. One thing being a Stark is good for is having too much money to ever spend it all, so I need all the help I can get.”

“You sure they won’t mind in that restaurant you were talkin’ about?” Bucky asked, looking skeptical. “Takin’ a bath hasn’t exactly been a priority for me the last week or so.”

“I _own_ the restaurant,” Tony scoffed, “and we’ve all gone in dirtier than you are now. Just don’t go in Hannah’s kitchen and she won’t care.”

Bucky grinned, obviously relieved. “Then what’re we waiting for?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Tony said cheerfully, waving to the elevator, which opened obligingly. “All aboard!”

Phil turned towards Clint to go help him, but Clint was already on his feet and walking fairly steadily towards Phil with Thor right behind him, and Tasha and Rhodey bringing up the rear. Phil fell into step with Clint on his right as Clint reached him, and Bruce smiled at the quick happy grin Clint gave Phil as they passed him.

Steve started after the others and Bucky quickly moved to walk with him, just behind Steve and to one side where he had been in most of the photos Bruce had seen of them together, which made Bruce smile as he followed along at the back of the group. 

Tony walked over to offer Bruce his hand, and Bruce smiled wider as he accepted it. Tony gave Bruce’s hand a squeeze, looking happy as he moved closer to Bruce’s side, walking with him into the slightly crowded elevator that would carry them all down to the ground floor where Hannah’s very successful restaurant now took up most of the floor. Tony had enlarged it twice now to give Hannah a little more room for the hordes of people that wanted to eat at a restaurant that was not only in Avengers Tower, but had also recently been awarded a four-star rating by the New York Times.

 

 

*~*~*

 

When the elevator reached the ground floor again, Buck waited patiently for the others to walk out so he and Steve could go, wondering if the restaurant Tony owned was really any good. He had noticed it before when he was looking around the lobby, but he hadn’t really paid any attention to it other than registering it was there and that something smelled pretty good.

Tony pulled Bruce past them after the others just as Steve finally started to move, and Bruce glanced at Steve as they passed, murmuring, “You and Bucky should talk, Steve.”

“Yes, I agree,” Phil said, smiling as he stood outside the elevator with his husband, who seemed perfectly comfortable with going out to eat despite the fact the guy was wearing nothing but his shorts.

“Take your time,” Tony added, waving his hands at the others in a shooing motion. “Come on, go, let them have a little privacy, God. They haven’t talked in _forever_.”

A moment later Steve and Buck were the only ones in the elevator, which closed again. Buck and Steve stood in silence for a minute or so before Buck reached out without thinking about it to bump Steve’s arm with his left hand. “This reminds me of that time you saved my ass and then we walked through half of Europe.” He glanced to the side to find Steve was just staring at him, which made him add, “And you’re still making a habit of saving my ass.”

“I didn’t save you this time,” Steve murmured, his blue eyes suddenly bleak and pained.

“Feels to me like you did,” Buck pointed out quietly. “You didn’t drag me out of the water, but you offered me a home. That’s not somethin’ I’ve had in way too long.”

“There will _always_ be a home for you wherever I am,” Steve said quietly, still upset, and then he suddenly blurted, “I’m so sorry I left you behind.”

“You never did, so stop it,” Buck said firmly as he turned to grab Steve’s shoulders with both of his hands, “or I’ll start apologizing for all the times I skipped out on you after a dame and you got beat half to death.”

“That was never your fault!” Steve protested, looking surprised and almost annoyed. “And besides, I can fight my own battles!”

“So can I!” Buck countered quickly. “I’m a grown man, and _older_ than you, too, so it was never your job to take care of me. Stark may like that shit – hell, I bet _Howard_ would have liked it, if you had ever _noticed_ he was crazy about you – but I don’t need you to pamper me and treat me like a kid, or worse, a girl. _I_ screwed up on that train, and it got me blown out over that gorge, where _I_ managed to fall in a fucking river. None of it was your fault!”

Steve stared at Buck a moment and then swallowed hard before he whispered, “I thought I had gotten you killed.”

Buck pulled Steve closer, wrapping his arms around him and not really surprised by the way Steve’s arms came up around him, or the way Steve hid his face against Buck’s neck. “Everything I ever did, I did because I wanted to, not because you made me, Stevie. You were never the boss of me, I just did what you wanted sometimes to make you feel special.” He ran his real hand over Steve’s hair, a little shocked to realize it still felt _familiar_ even though Steve had been half his size the last time he had needed to really comfort him. “Stop with the martyr shit, okay? I’m here, and whatever happened is over and done with.” He smiled suddenly. “And I’m never gonna do somethin’ so damn _dumb_ again, I promise.”

Steve let out a shaky little laugh, finally letting go of Buck and pulling away. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Bucky.”

Buck snorted, grinning at Steve. “Don’t make me kick your ass, punk. You may be stronger than me now, but we both know I’m sneakier and meaner.”

“Taught me all I know about being sneaky and mean when I need to,” Steve agreed with a little smile that finally went to his eyes. “Taught me a _lot_ , really.”

“Just not about makin’ whoopee with men, ‘cause I don’t swing that way,” Buck agreed, smirking. “Always knew you did, but I didn’t think you’d ever do anything about it, and then there was Peg and I figured you had talked yourself into believing you liked girls.”

Steve’s smile faded away again. “I tried to like girls, but I never did until Peggy.”

“She’s the toughest broad I ever met,” Buck said, grinning at Steve. “She coulda broke you in half even _after_ , I think.”

Steve let out a soft little laugh. “Probably. I always had that feeling, anyway.” He paused, and then admitted, “Kind of like I always had a crush on you.”

“I know,” Buck said, smirking. “You were hot for my bod when we were kids.” He tilted his head slightly, curious. “But now you say that like it’s gone.”

Steve was obviously embarrassed. “Now I know the difference between a crush and being in love with someone.” He met Buck’s gaze with the fearlessness Buck had always admired about Steve. “I love you, but it’s different now, which is a good thing. You never wanted me like that, and I’m glad now when I look at you I’m just seeing my best friend, not the one guy I had ever let myself dream about touching.”

“I kind of thought if was like that,” Buck admitted seriously. “You were so afraid to look at anyone else – which was good since it probably kept you alive – that I didn’t mind when you snuck looks at me.” He paused and then added, “Falsworth lectured me about you a few times, did you know that?” Steve’s eyes went wide and he shook his head, which made Buck grin. “Yeah, he wanted to be sure I wasn’t gonna drop you for some dame and break your heart. He was sure you were queer until that time in the bar with Peg and that snazzy red dress that made her look like a pinup girl. She was all over you and a blind man could see you wanted her just as bad.”

“I did,” Steve murmured, blushing as he looked away and then admitted, “but when I woke up in the future and they told me everyone I ever knew was dead, it was still mostly you I cried over at night when no one could see. They made me see a shrink for weeks before I figured out there were cameras in my room, so they knew I cried myself to sleep every night like a stupid little girl.”

Buck was quiet for a moment before he murmured, “Remember that time in the Belleau Wood, when we all got separated in that plane crash?” Steve nodded, still not looking at him. “I saw you fall out of the plane when the tail section broke away, and I was sure you were dead.” Steve looked at him, surprised, and Buck went on softly, “I was worthless for most of the first day after the crash because I was too busy bursting into tears like a _baby_ every time I thought about you. I was so devastated over losing you that I didn’t care if I lived or died, and Jim and Howard were both convinced I had a major head injury right up until you stumbled into camp a week later.”

Steve searched Buck’s eyes a few moments before he admitted, “I felt the same way after I thought you died. The only thing I regretted when I had to ditch that plane was that I never got that dance with Peggy.”

“You ever learn to dance?” Buck asked, curious.

Steve smiled suddenly, his blue eyes going warm and fond. “Yeah. Tony insisted on taking me and Bruce out a few days after they moved in with me, and I got to dance with both of them.” He paused and then added, “He talked Chef Hannah into coming in on her day off to cook a private meal for us so we could have the whole place to ourselves. He got some of his people to rearrange everything so there was a dance floor in the restaurant and we were there for _hours_ , eating the most delicious food and dancing the night away.” He laughed softly. “We might have still been there at dawn if Phil didn’t call down to order us all to bed like we were kids. He said we’d have the rest of our lives to dance, so we didn’t need to try to squeeze it all into one night.”

Buck smiled, fiercely glad that Steve finally had people who understood him and the dreams that had always seemed kind of silly to Buck, but that he knew were very important to Steve. “I noticed that you all seem to do what Phil says.”

“Phil’s kind of the dad,” Steve said with a sudden grin, “and if anyone’s the mom, it’s Clint. They both keep an eye on us all and make sure we take care of ourselves. I can’t imagine ever going back to how I lived before. They’re family now, as close to me as you are.”

Buck smiled wider, pleased. “I still rank that high?”

Steve grew serious again. “You are the only person in the _world_ who knew me when I was a scrawny, smart-mouthed kid from Brooklyn, Bucky. I can’t _remember_ before you had my back.” He hesitated, obviously pained, and then went on softly, “But I can’t remember ever feeling as _needed_ as I do with Tony, Bruce, and the others, either.” He swallowed hard and shook his head slightly, looking down. “I could never choose between you and them. Just the idea hurts.”

“I won’t make you choose,” Buck promised softly, reaching out to pull Steve into another hug.

Steve returned the hug gratefully, just as he had when they were kids, and it made Buck think of the winter Steve turned thirteen, both of them orphans at a time when it seemed like everyone was fighting just to survive and didn’t have a handout for a couple of kids. They had lived in a cellar in exchange for Steve watching five young children every day while their parents worked, and Buck had spent most of his time that winter either holding Steve to keep him warm or out hustling money for food and the medicines that Steve had needed to survive. They had lived on table scraps and soup bones that Buck had done odd jobs to earn for Steve to boil into soups that didn’t always taste great but had kept them both alive.

They had made it on their own pretty well until the week Buck had been unable to earn enough money to buy the medicines Steve needed just when Steve caught a nasty cold had settled into his lungs and gave him a fever so high Buck had to bathe him in cool water every twenty minutes just to keep him from going into convulsions. Buck had been terrified Steve would die in his sleep that night like Steve’s mom did, so Buck had begged their landlord to watch Steve for him and then went out and tried to steal the meds. Buck had managed to get caught just as he returned to their cellar, and he and Steve were hustled off into an orphanage within hours.

That had begun the worst part of Buck’s life, and he still had nightmares about it sometimes. Living in the crowded church-run orphanage had been hell on earth for Buck, but he had never even considered running away because Steve had needed the medicines and regular meals the nuns gave them.

Steve had ended up in the orphanage’s infirmary for three months before he was well enough to join the rest of the boys, and by then Buck had managed to fight his way high enough in the pecking order that he could protect Steve from the things that happened to Buck during his first two weeks of living there. They had ended up staying at the orphanage over a year before one of the nuns found them work as newsboys and they moved into an old house with twenty other boys where they got fed once a day and had a roof over their heads and medical care as long as their papers got delivered on time. They ended up staying there until Buck managed to get a job working as a butcher’s assistant that earned enough to pay for a tiny room in a boarding house that came with enough food to keep them both alive.

Steve pulled away suddenly, distracting Buck from thoughts of the past as Steve smiled at him and said softly, “I’ve missed you, this last year.”

“I missed you too,” Buck agreed. “Never again, okay? From now on, if we can’t do it together, we forget about it. Deal?”

Steve blinked, surprised and upset. “But, Tony and Bruce—“

“Together as in both of us living in the same house,” Buck clarified, amused. “I’m not inviting myself into your bed ever again, Stevie. You just get your guy to buy me a few extra blankets and I’ll be all set.”

“Deal,” Steve agreed with a blindingly happy smile.

Buck grinned. “Great! Now where’s this restaurant you and Stark mentioned? I’m starving.”

“This way,” Steve replied quickly, turning towards the elevator doors, which were already opening. “Tony and Bruce probably ordered for us by now. I hope you won’t mind a steak. That’s usually what Tony gets me, he knows I love them.”

“Hell no, I could eat half a _cow_.”

Buck was grinning as he followed Steve out into the lobby, staying easily at Steve’s shoulder just had he had a thousand times during the war. It was reassuring to be at Steve’s shoulder again, and made him feel like he was home despite the fact nothing around them was anything like their last place in Brooklyn before the war. They could never go back to the old place again because it wasn't even  _there_ anymore, but he didn’t really care about it what kind of building he lived in anyway. As long as he was with Steve, he could deal with even another war if he had to.

Buck had tried getting by on his own before, after all, and he just flat wasn’t good at it.

 

 


	2. A Human Alien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Marvel Movies Universe AU  
> Spoilers: If you’ve read the rest of this series, you already know I use what I like of canon and pitch the rest, both movie and comic ‘verse. Spoilers for the ENTIRE MARVEL MOVIE ‘VERSE, including possibly upcoming storylines.
> 
> Rating: PG
> 
> Characters: Bucky Barnes, Frigga, JARVIS.  
> Pairings: none
> 
> Summary: Buck had been living in Avengers Tower for just two weeks, but he already thought of it as home. It wasn’t like anywhere he had lived before, not even like any of the futuristic dreams Howard used to talk about, but it was awesome.

 

Buck had been living in Avengers Tower for just two weeks, but he already thought of it as home. It wasn’t like anywhere he had lived before, not even like any of the futuristic dreams Howard used to talk about, but it was _awesome_. Being allowed to watch Steve being so happy and relaxed and surrounded by people who loved him would have been a treat even if they were all living in a cardboard box, so having absolutely anything and everything they could ever want theirs for the asking _and_ seeing Steve with a family that loved him madly despite the fact he was a giant dork (Buck really liked that word, it fit Stevie _perfect_.) was enough to make Buck think giving up their world to get this new one had been a great trade.

That was how Buck had decided to look at it, despite the fact he knew they were just in the future. The world had very little of the one he remembered left in it, but after all he had seen he didn’t really mourn for what they left behind. He had friends before, sure, but he hadn’t been especially close to anyone except Steve since his mom died when he was thirteen, and Steve was with him so it could have been a hell of a lot worse. He liked the future better than he had ever liked living hand-to-mouth and fighting for everything he got, and he wouldn’t go back even if he could. The only thing he could think of that _might_ make him go was if Steve somehow got sent back into the war, and even then he would have had to drag Tony along to get them back out of there when they found Stevie. Tony was the smartest man he had ever met, smarter than Howard by far, and Buck was sure Tony could figure out time travel if anyone could.

Buck liked his new life in Avengers Tower and enjoyed exploring it when Steve was busy with his guys, which was often enough that it made Buck proud of the kid even though it sometimes left him bored as hell. He had been taking off whenever being alone in the penthouse’s common areas got to be too much for him, picking a random floor and then just wandering around peeking in doors (He was allowed to go _everywhere,_ JARVIS had given him a nametag that made everyone he met call him ‘sir’ and act like he was their boss, it was awesome.) to see what was going on even though as often as not he had no clue once he had looked.

That particular day his explorations had turned into Buck getting lost, but it didn’t bother him. The day he had begun exploring the tower he had asked JARVIS not to help him figure out where he was unless he asked, mostly because without the AI’s help he could spend hours wandering unfamiliar places without ever leaving home, and he was perfectly happy to wander until he saw something familiar again. He couldn’t ever get _really_ lost because JARVIS could always hear him inside the tower, so he could feel free to wander and try to figure it out himself without worrying he’d get too lost to find his way home again.

At that moment, Buck was currently trotting down an empty hallway a couple of levels below the lowest parking garage, but he had no clue where he was going anymore, or when he might get there. It had been a while since he got out of the elevator, and he had turned three corners so far, but he hadn’t seen a single doorway or even a branch in the hallway, and the way he figured it, he’d probably be back where he started pretty soon. He wasn’t sure what the floor was actually supposed to be for, but he figured it’d make an awesome place to run when he was feeling cooped up and just needed to _move_. Most of the halls he’d seen so far in the tower had enough traffic in them that running was a bad idea, but that weird empty one was obviously deserted so it’d be perfect for running laps, especially since the halls seemed to be about a block long.

Buck had been jogging along for a good five minutes since the last turn when he suddenly rounded a corner and saw the elevator ahead of him. He grinned at the proof the floor was just one giant empty loop and hurried his pace, and he had almost reached the elevator door when it opened to reveal a beautiful woman in a long fancy dress that looked like something straight out of an old play Steve dragged him to when they were kids.

The woman smiled, her blue eyes gentle and warm as she murmured, “Hello, James.”

Buck was so surprised that she knew his given name that he didn’t even protest her using it despite the fact he hated being called James. “Uh… Hi. Ma’am. Do I … know you?”

“Not yet, but I know you,” The woman replied, her smile widening. “I believe you know my son, Thor?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Buck agreed quickly, brightening as he relaxed slightly. “You must be Frigga, I heard him telling Darcy that you were going to visit soon.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Frigga said, smiling at Buck in a warm, gentle way that made him think of his mother when he had done something particularly nice. “I wanted to check up on young Clint and visit with my son and his betrothed, but I also wanted to meet you.”

Buck let out a little huff of a laugh, shocked. “Me?!  Why? You don’t even know me.”

“Of course I do, James,” Frigga said, looking amused and somehow fond. “I make it a practice to know all of my son’s friends, and he has claimed you as _family_ so it was doubly-important that I see you _._ ”

“Family? To a _god_?” Buck repeated, eyes going wide again.

Frigga laughed at that, light and musical. “Thor is not a god, James, merely a young man from a different realm who has often worried over his lack of knowledge of this world until he met you. It has been reassuring to him to discover that not all who are suddenly deposited in this day and age on Midgard adapt as quickly as your brother has.”

“Stevie was always quick to learn stuff even _before_ the serum,” Buck said, bemused. “Now it’s kinda scary sometimes how smart he is.”

Frigga’s lips twitched slightly. “Yes, my son feels similarly.” She gestured into the still-open elevator, changing the subject slightly as she added, “Might we talk on the way back up to what young Tony calls the ‘penthouse’? I believe that was where you were going, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, it was,” Buck replied, surprised again. He hesitated only an instant and then moved into the elevator, adding, “Breakfast was a long time ago and I’d kind of like a snack.”

“And you have been busy,” Frigga agreed, nodding. “JARVIS, if you please?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” JARVIS replied primly, closing the elevator doors. “Would you prefer to return to the first floor, the family room, or to Master Thor’s floor?”

“The family area will be fine, JARVIS, thank you,” Frigga replied, obviously amused as she turned to Buck. “Now James, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, and why you were wandering the depths of this marvelous tower.”

Buck didn’t even think before he replied automatically, “My name’s _Buck_.”

Frigga’s lips twitched. “Your _name_ is James Buchanan Barnes, and you were born in nineteen-sixteen Midgard time to a beautiful Irish girl named Deirdre Aine Barnes who had been taken advantage of by a man she thought was going to marry her.”

Buck frowned. “How do you know all that?”

“I spoke with Heimdall about you when he told me you had finally found young Steve again,” Frigga replied calmly, smiling. “Heimdall is the guardian of the Bifrost and through it he sees all and knows all.”

Buck’s eyes went very wide and he crossed himself without a thought. “Holy Mary, Mother of God.”

Frigga’s lips twitched again. “I have never understood how so many Midgardians could get that wrong. I knew Mary for a short time when I traveled Midgard studying, and I am quite sure that her adorable little boy was named Jesus.”

Buck stared a little longer, feeling as though maybe his world was being tipped on its ear again. He was saved from the need to find something to say by the opening of the elevator doors, which was good because what in the world did you say to someone who told you she had known _Jesus_ as a little boy?

Frigga gestured towards the furniture across the family room, smiling at Buck. “Why don’t we go have a seat? You have a lot of questions for me, I think, and I know I would quite like to ask more of you, James. You are a rare young man.” She let her hand fall gracefully, her smile curving upwards a bit further as she added very softly, “Rarer than you know.”

“You said that Heimdall guy knows everything, right?” Buck half-asked. Frigga nodded, looking amused, and then Buck pulled his metal hand from his pocket and lifted it to show her the gleaming silver as he asked more quietly, “Did he tell you how I got this?”

“I think that I can put your mind at ease about it, yes,” Frigga agreed without hesitation.

“Alright then,” Buck said, nodding. “You tell me that, and I’ll answer anything you want to ask.”

“Lovely.” Frigga smiled wider and turned away to glide towards the sitting area with Buck trailing along after her, wondering how she managed to walk so smoothly.

Frigga settled into one of the chairs, arranging her skirts around her feet while Buck took a seat on the couch, and then looked up at him with a warm smile. “Ask what you will, James.”

“Howdidigetthearm?” Buck blurted, then blushed at how rushed together it all was.

Frigga laughed softly, sounding almost like the chiming of bells, and then she began to speak, her words capturing Buck’s attention so completely that he didn’t even realize he was falling asleep.

 

 

~*~*~

 

Buck jerked awake, staring up at the familiar ceiling for only a moment before he sat up suddenly and looked around. The family room was still deserted except for him, and he frowned as he realized that Frigga was gone.

There was a soft noise then, almost the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then JARVIS’ voice said, “Master Barnes, I was just about to wake you.”

“My name is _Bucky,_ JARVIS. What time is it?” Buck asked, shifting on the couch as he reminded himself not to argue about the ‘Master’ bit. It had bothered JARVIS so much the last time Buck asked the AI not to call him ‘Master’ that he didn’t want to go through it again. He had decided it wasn’t so bad coming from JARVIS anyway, and it seemed to make the AI happy to call all the people who lived in the penthouse by some sort of title.

“Master Steve asked me to let you know dinner will be on the table in five minutes, sir, and that you are not allowed to miss it,” JARVIS replied, sounding slightly amused. “He has talked Master Bruce and Master Stark into helping him make your favorite dinner of steak with mushrooms, fries, and a cauliflower-cheese casserole with crumbled bacon, and Master Clint has made blackberry cobbler for dessert.”

Buck grinned. “Sounds great to me!” He started to get up, reaching out to grab the arm of the couch to help haul himself up off of it before he froze, his eyes going wide as he stared in shock at his left hand. The metal hand he had been trying so hard to ignore since he woke up on that freighter was gone, replaced by what looked like the hand he remembered having before he fell off of the train, what seemed to him like just couple of months ago.

Bucky jerked his long-sleeved t-shirt up over his head to drop it on the couch by him and then lifted his left hand to look at it as he poked and prodded at it with the other hand, his shock slowly changing to awe. He could feel the hand and arm again, not just the vague sensations he’d had since he woke on that Russian freighter, but _real_ sensations, and he was hardly aware he was speaking out loud as he murmured wonderingly, “What the hell did Frigga _do_?”

JARVIS spoke suddenly, sounding oddly diffident as he said, “I have multiple recordings of the three hours since you entered this room with Queen Frigga, sir, but your hand was not visible on any of my cameras for most of that time and I am unable to pinpoint the moment that your arm … changed.”

“Last I remember, I sat down here to talk with her, and then I woke up just a minute ago. What was she doing that whole time?” Buck asked, still staring at his left hand as he flexed it carefully, a slow grin spreading across his face as he realized he even had the old familiar scars over his knuckles back where they belonged.

“Queen Frigga simply sat in a chair and whispered at length in a language I do not have on file, sir,” JARVIS replied promptly. “I did not record her moving around or touching you in any way, though I did register large amounts of the same sort of energy that I observed on Master Clint after he visited Asgard to have his shoulder healed. She finished with whatever it was approximately twenty minutes ago and left the family room to climb the stairs to Master Thor’s suite, where she visited with him and Miss Darcy for a short time before she returned to Asgard.”

“Huh,” Buck murmured, looking up towards the camera above the big viewscreen across from him. “If you ever see Frigga around again, you let me know, okay? I gotta thank her.”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS agreed, and then paused before he went on with a sudden note of amusement, “as long as you will go down to the kitchen immediately. Master Steve wishes me to tell you that dinner is on the table and if you have not reached your seat by the time he gets drinks for everyone, he will be forced to kick your hind end.”

Buck laughed, jumping to his feet and then pulling his t-shirt back on. “I wouldn’t miss it for the _world_ , JARVIS. I’d hate to make my favorite invisible buddy look bad after you promised Stevie you’d find me.”

“Thank you, sir,” JARVIS said dryly. “I am forever grateful.”

Buck just started quickly towards the door to the stairs, which began opening by the time he took the second step.

He couldn’t _wait_ to show Steve his hand.

 

 

 


	3. Marching On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Marvel Movies Universe AU  
> Spoilers: If you’ve read the rest of this series, you already know I use what I like of canon and pitch the rest, both movie and comic ‘verse. Spoilers for the ENTIRE MARVEL MOVIE ‘VERSE, including possibly upcoming storylines. ;-)
> 
> Rating: PG-13 for language and slight sexual situations  
> Warnings: none
> 
> Summary: Bucky had already decided he would watch Steve’s back whenever the Avengers went on a mission, but the first time the call came he was still surprised by what happened.

 

The Avengers had been on ‘vacation’ since the day Buck wandered home, but that only lasted for two and a half weeks before JARVIS sounded the alert for the team to assemble in the family room where everyone’s favorite weapons and armors were stored.

Buck had been told right after he got to the tower that he’d always have the choice to stay behind in the tower or go out into battle with the Avengers if they got the call, but to him it was no choice. If Steve would be heading into combat, Buck was going to have his back, period. He didn’t have one of the fancy suits the others wore to fight to change into before they left, just an array of shirts and pants he had bought when Tasha, Tony, Steve, and Bruce took him shopping, but he had bought some of it with fighting in mind, like the black cargo pants he had changed into as soon as he reached his bedroom. He had been running around barefoot much of the time in the tower, enjoying the freedom after living in boots for months on end back in the war, but he had also bought a good pair of heavy-duty steel-toed boots, and as soon as he was dressed he flopped onto his bed with a pair of socks to put them on.

There was a knock on Buck’s door just as he finished speed-lacing his boots, and he jumped up off the bed to walk quickly to the door as he said, “I’m _coming_ Stevie, god!”

Buck opened the door only to stare in surprise at Phil, who had an armful of something black draped over his left arm and was holding his right hand up as if to knock again.

Phil smiled, lowering his empty hand and looking amused. “You’ll need your own body armor if you’re going into battle with us.” He offered Buck the black bundle he was holding over his arm, which turned out to be a long duffle that looked like it held a rifle of some kind, what looked like leather pants with cargo pockets, a vest like the one Clint had shown him a week or so ago, and a long black leather coat like the one he had seen Tasha wear when she went to ‘visit the inlaws’ at SHIELD with Phil just that morning. “Clint worked with the R&D team downstairs to make these for you. They’re copies of his body armor, tailored to fit you perfectly as of several days ago.” His lips twitched. “And improved on slightly, with Tony’s aid.”

“Clint doesn’t wear a coat like that,” Buck said, surprised and kind of floored that Clint and Phil cared enough to outfit him for battle, but even more shocked that Tony had helped. He still wasn’t sure Tony actually even _liked_ him, though Steve said he did. Tony didn’t have much to say to Buck, not unless he was teasing him or just being polite. Most of their conversations actually revolved around Tony snarking at him (Buck liked that word, snark. It was so fitting for what Tony did.) for walking into a room while Tony and Steve were kissing, or when Tony was watching Bruce and Steve kiss. Buck never actually _told_ Steve to stop, and he’d only told them to get a room a couple of times, but Steve still seemed to be pretty shy about being caught making out.

“That’s new, something Natasha suggested last week that Clint and Tony latched on to,” Phil said dryly, amused. “It’s lined with an ultralight metallic fabric of Tony’s design that will stop or at least greatly slow down most projectiles or sharp objects that hit it. Clint has one, he just hasn’t worn his yet.”

“Sounds useful, for sure.” Buck accepted the clothes and the bag, which turned out to be heavier than it looked. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil said, smiling. “You should come on down to the family room to change, there’s a locker down there for your things just like there are for the rest of us. You’re an Avenger now, Buck, not just the guy who follows Captain America around.”

“I … wow,” Buck murmured, surprised. After a moment he nodded, smiling at Phil as he said, “Alright, I’ve been around long enough to know that you’re the boss. Lead the way.”

Phil laughed and turned away, and then a moment later Buck was following Phil quickly down the stairs and into the lab-slash-family room where pretty much everything that affected the Avengers seemed to happen except for meals.

The team was grouped around Steve to look at one of JARVIS’ projections, which caused a bit of a problem when Buck slipped past Tony to see what was so interesting, taking his usual place at Steve’s right shoulder while Tony was distracted by his tablet. The image the team was looking at was a map of the city with two areas highlighted in red, but Buck didn’t have time to see anything more before Tony shoved his way in front of Buck, almost nose-to-nose, and gave him a piercing glare.

“Don’t think you’re _keeping_ my spot, Barnes,” Tony said huffily, looking annoyed as he moved to Steve’s other side.

“It was my spot first,” Buck replied, giving Tony a smirk.

Tony scowled angrily and opened his mouth to retort, but Steve reached out to take Tony’s hand and Tony shut his mouth quickly, looking at Steve.

“You can _both_ watch my back, baby,” Steve murmured, giving Tony a warm smile. “He’ll do best fighting with me the way he’s used to, at least until he gets into the gym with everyone to learn some new moves.”

“Professor Xavier says that his team can hold their positions for ten more minutes at best,” JARVIS’ voice said suddenly all around them, and Buck _really_ wished the computer would always pick just _one_ speaker to talk from. The whole disembodied voice from everywhere thing was still kind of creepy to him sometimes even though he liked JARVIS and enjoyed talking to him.

“Everyone, suit up,” Steve said quickly, reaching to put his hand on Buck’s upper arm and give it a squeeze. Buck smiled back even though he flushed a bit at the realization Steve thought he needed reassured, standing still and just watching as Steve turned away to trot off towards the case that held his suit, which was right next to the red and gold Iron Man armor that belonged to Tony. Everyone else quickly moved towards their own equipment cases as Steve said, “Clint, you’re always ready before I am, so when you get suited up, give Bucky a hand, would you? He’s not used to much in the way of armor, he’ll need help with it the first time.”

“You got it, Cap,” Clint agreed, already at the case that held his bow and quiver. “JARVIS, you got those new self-powered arrows ready to go?”

“Of course, Master Clint,” JARVIS replied, sounding slightly offended. “They are in your quiver where they belong, fancy that.”

“Hey now, don’t get touchy, I was just asking,” Clint said with a laugh. He put his hand to the wall by the bow’s case, and the seemingly solid wall slid open to reveal Clint’s body armor hung neatly along with a coat like the one Phil had given to Buck. Clint grinned a bit and reached for the hem of his shirt, jerking it up and off to toss it into the cabinet below his armor, and then he reached for the top of his jeans, which made Buck look away.

Buck looked around the room, curious, and saw that Tony, Rhodey, and Phil were already near the cases that held their armors, stripping out of their clothes with hurried efficiency, which made Buck stare until he heard Clint call, “Barnes, don’t just stand around gawking at Phil’s sexy bod, you’ll have to strip down, too.”

Buck looked quickly back towards Clint and saw that he was naked already except for some very tiny underwear and a pair of tall socks. “You gotta be shittin’ me!”

“Not hardly.” Clint reached into the cabinet he was standing by and pulled out his leather pants, grinning at Buck. “You won’t fit anything under your body armor unless you’ve got a thong on, man, and those cargo pants won’t stop a bullet like these things do.” He gave the leather pants a slight shake in Buck’s direction and then bent to put them on.

“And no body armor means you wait here,” Steve added firmly, making Buck look towards him. Steve was already pulling on his uniform, naked as a jay bird with his back to the room, and Buck blinked a few times to be sure he wasn’t seeing things as he watched Steve’s bare ass shimmy into the skin-tight blue leather that left _nothing_ to the imagination even after his ass was covered. “I mean it, Buck,” Steve said, looking over his shoulder at Buck to frown at him even though he was blushing very red. “If you’re coming with us, get suited up!”

Buck let out a little bit of a laugh as he dropped the stuff he was holding and then began to strip hurriedly, starting with his shirt. “I never thought I’d see the day you stripped in front of _anyone_ without being forced into it, Stevie. You were always too shy to even strip down in front of _me_ , and in the winter we shared a bed half the time so we wouldn’t freeze.”

“People could be _dying_ ,” Steve replied as he turned his back to the rest of the room again, his voice just a bit hard. “There’s no time right now for modesty.”

“I do love my job,” Bruce said suddenly, and Buck looked towards the sound of his voice to see Bruce was leaning against the workbench that looked more like an expensive bar. Bruce was shirtless and smirking slightly as he watched Steve, his gaze roaming over Steve’s body as he added, “Sometimes it’s kind of nice not having to suit up.”

Thor was standing near Bruce, grinning widely as he watched _Buck_ undressing. “It can be quite enjoyable, for a fact.”

Buck looked down and knelt to untie the combat boots he had just put on, trying to ignore the way he could feel his face heating up as he said, “As long as you keep your hands to yourself, Thor, I guess you can look.”

“Thank you, friend Buck,” Thor said cheerfully, “but you could not stop me unless you leave the room. I find you _very_ attractive.”

Buck laughed, he couldn’t help it even though he suddenly felt more naked in his cargo pants than he ever had when he was completely naked with a dame.

“Quit teasing him, Thor,” Tony said suddenly, making Buck look up and then watch wide-eyed as Tony stood in the middle of the room in what looked like black clingy long-handle underwear while the red and gold metal armor wrapped itself around him, starting at his neck and working downwards. When both arms were fully encased in armor, Tony moved his hands out to the sides palm-down and flared his fingers wide, making short white jets of some kind kick on in the palm of his hands that lifted him off the ground while the rest of the armor quickly moved into place around his legs and feet. “He’s a prude, and besides, he doesn’t do guys.”

“I’m not a _prude_!” Buck protested while he unfastened his pants, trying not to laugh at the very idea.

“Compared to Thor, _I_ am a prude,” Tony told Buck as he lowered himself back to the floor, his armor seeming almost to flow around him as it formed itself to his body completely. “But I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t do guys?”

Buck let his cargoes fall, kicking out of them before he reached for his new leather pants. “Never have.” He shook out the pants, fighting not to let his surprise show as he realized what he had said. He never _had_ done guys, never even wanted to, so he didn’t know why that had come out sounding like he would consider the idea.

“I meant it, Barnes,” Clint said, making Buck look up again. Clint was shrugging into his own armored vest, moving towards Buck as he added, “There’s no room for those boxer shorts under your armor. They’ll bunch up and be uncomfortable as hell. I speak from experience.”

Buck hesitated and then Natasha said cheerfully behind him, “You can have the bathroom if you’re shy, Bucky. I’m done.”

Buck turned, surprised that he hadn’t noticed she was gone, and his eyes widened a bit as he saw her standing in an open doorway he hadn’t even known was there in a skin-tight leather suit of some kind that was open all the way to her navel.

Natasha zipped her suit up to the valley between her breasts as he stared, and then she said, “Close your mouth, Bucky. You’ll catch flies.”

“I beg your pardon!” JARVIS said quickly, sounding kind of offended.

“Figure of speech, JARVIS,” Natasha said, looking amused as she stalked towards Buck. She stopped right in front of him, looking him up and down as she added, “I vote you strip here, though. I want to watch.”

“Seconded!” Thor said quickly, sounding cheerful. “The view is sure to be inspiring.”

“Come on you two, leave him alone,” Steve said, obviously trying not to laugh.

“But he’s so pretty, Steve,” Natasha said, still not looking away from Buck, her gaze having settled on his crotch. “I want to see if the rest is as _edible_.”

Buck spluttered, feeling like his face was on fire clear down to his _knees_.

“It is true,” Thor agreed, smirking and cheerful as he moved over to stand closer to Buck. “The rear view is best though, friend Tasha. Our shieldbrother has a most lovely posterior. You must look.”

“Oh, I did, Thor,” Natasha agreed, moving around Buck to look at his backside again. “Don’t you just want to take a bite out of it?”

“The thought had occurred to me, I must admit,” Thor replied with a low teasing growl. “Among others.”

“Makes me want to pin him down and see how loud I can make him scream,” Natasha said, making Buck turn to look at her in shock as she smirked at him. “I would make sure you liked it, Bucky. Clint, tell him.”

“You’re awesome, Tasha, but I like the real thing better,” Clint said, obviously trying not to laugh.

“Tasha, what has gotten into you?” Steve asked, sounding a little scandalized and a lot amused.

Natasha made a face at Clint and then looked at Steve, impossibly innocent. “Nothing, Steve.” She looked back at Buck. “That’s the problem. All the lovely men around here are giving me ideas, and most of you aren’t available. That leaves just two of you free for me to try to ... _persuade_ into a little fun.”

“I gotta change,” Buck blurted, and he didn’t even try to look like he wasn’t running away as he fled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Buck stripped down to his socks and then slithered and shimmied his way into the leather pants, and he was just buttoning up the fly when JARVIS spoke up suddenly, sounding a bit apologetic.

“Master Thor has asked me to inform you that he was merely teasing you, Master Barnes.” JARVIS paused slightly and then added, “And Miss Romanov seems to have had a few drinks at some point while she was out this evening, and is, in Master Clint’s words—“ The voice changed suddenly to Clint’s. “Happy, horny, and ready for action.” The voice changed back to JARVIS’ as it said primly, “Master Steve has sent the others on ahead to aid the X-Men. He will help with your armor himself.”

Buck moved to the bathroom door, feeling relieved as he opened it and then stopping abruptly when he saw Tony and Steve were standing very close together next to Buck’s gear, the armor Tony wore making them almost the same height. Tony was murmuring about something, smirking slightly while Steve blushed, and both of Tony’s hands were on Steve’s waist. The body armor vest Buck was supposed to wear was dangling from one of Steve’s hands while Steve’s other hand held on to the arm of Tony’s suit as if he needed the support to stay on his feet, and Buck realized suddenly that Tony’s lips looked a bit bruised, which meant he had just barely missed seeing them kissing. Again.

“JARVIS, I thought you said everyone else was _gone_?” Buck complained.

Tony looked at Buck, smirking as he answered before JARVIS could. “I’m your ride. Steve’s too, so I had to stay.”

Steve moved towards Buck, adding, “And he promised to behave.”

“This time,” Tony added quickly, kneeling to open up the duffle Phil had given to Buck. “Don’t worry, I won’t comment about your ass, Barnes. I’ve seen better.” Tony looked up, his gaze going unerringly to Steve’s ass as he smirked and added, “Often, in fact.”

“Tony,” Steve said, giving Tony a dirty look.

“Right, right, no sexy fun in front of our brother,” Tony agreed quickly, looking back down at the duffle as he began drawing out weapons. “Did you look through this thing, Barnes? Phil said something about already having weapons for you when Clint and I were doing the armor, but I never got to see any of them.”

“There wasn’t any time for me to look either,” Buck replied as he decided not to think about the ‘our brother’ bit until later. Steve helped him into his vest then and began efficiently fastening zippers and straps that pulled the vest skin-tight around Buck’s upper body, attaching the vest securely to several short straps he hadn’t even noticed on the outside of the pants, and Buck did his best to keep from missing any of it. “I figured he gave me a rifle and some handguns, but beyond that…”

“You got a rifle alright,” Tony said, suddenly sounding disgusted. Buck looked towards him, surprised, and watched Tony hefting a familiar rifle as Tony went on. “It’s older than you are, but it still counts as a rifle, I guess.”

“Looks fine to me,” Buck said, grinning. “Just like my old one, in fact.”

Tony looked at Buck, shocked. “Oh man, we have _got_ to get you up to speed. Tomorrow, you and me have a date with _my_ armory, mkay? I can get you outfitted with a sniper rifle that has almost _double_ the range of this thing with laser sights and heat-seeking flechettes.”

“I guess we can go look,” Buck agreed slowly as he moved to step into his boots, a little surprised Tony had made the offer. He had gotten the feeling Tony hated sharing his toys “None of your Buck Rodgers shit for me, though, Stark. Just give me a regular rifle that shoots plain old bullets.” He grinned suddenly. “Heat-seeking whatevers wouldn’t do me any good if I need to shoot something that ain’t hot.”

“Just let him use what he knows for now,” Steve added, making Tony look at Steve in surprise. Buck knelt down on one knee to tie his boot, watching as Steve smiled at Tony, adding, “You haven’t tried changing Clint’s bow, right?”

“Clint would _kill me_ if I changed Blanche,” Tony replied with a little laugh as he looked back down to load a full magazine into the rifle. “I make exact replicas for a very good reason. Last time I played with her, he cuffed me to a chair and made me watch _Titanic_.” He paused. “Twice.”

Buck switched feet, amused and wondering if any movie could be bad enough to be a punishment. Tony seemed to think so, since he got threatened with movies pretty regularly by Phil and Clint, but Buck thought it was kind of silly. He liked watching movies, even the dumb ones.

Steve grinned. “So consider that fifty-cal to be Bucky’s Blanche, okay? Make him some fancy rounds for it or something, but don’t try to change what he’s comfortable with. He’s fought his way through half a war with it, baby. He can hold his own, I promise.”

“I could be persuaded to try another rifle, maybe,” Buck said as he finished his other boot and stood, making Steve look at him in surprise. “Just, I want a _rifle_ , not some ray gun or a metal suit or anything.” He shifted his shoulders a little, looking down at the body armor he was wearing as he added, “And some different pants. The built in holsters are nice, I guess, and the pockets, but these things ain’t _decent_.”

Tony snickered and looked down, setting the rifle aside to reach for a handgun in the bag and load it efficiently as he muttered, “Such a prude.”

Steve laughed, ignoring Tony as he told Buck, “That what I said when Howard and Peggy put me in my first real battle suit, and _you_ shamed me into wearing it anyway.”

Buck grinned sheepishly at Steve. “How about if I promise never to tease you about your tights again?”

“You already did that,” Steve replied dryly. “Several times. And these aren’t tights, they’re high-tech bullet-proof fabric like the bodysuits the others wear under the Iron Men and the lining for different the body armors, including yours.”

“Oops?” Buck said with a soft laugh.

Steve snorted and turned away, moving to pick up the long coat and then flinging it at Buck, who began untangling it to put it on. “How’s the battle going, JARVIS?”

JARVIS hesitated a few moments and then said, “Better, sir. The arrival of the Avengers so far on site has turned the tide of action enough that the X-Men are rallying, but Master Phil says the full team will be needed to defeat the Doombots. He does not yet feel competent enough in battle to be of as much aid as he would like.”

Tony stood with Buck’s rifle in one hand and two Colt 1911 handguns in the other, looking incredulous. “Seriously?! They called us in for a few _Doombots_?”

“There are more than a few, sir,” JARVIS said reprovingly. “By my count there are forty-three active robots of the type the Avengers recently fought, as well as two surviving much more intelligent robots that seem to be directing the others. According to Master Logan’s report, there _were_ seven of the ‘boss’ robots and fifty of the lesser type, but the X-Men have already dealt with the others.”

“Hack their asses,” Tony declared, moving to offer Bucky the twin Colts. “You’ve got all their frequencies now.”

“I have been attempting to do so since Master Phil’s armor moved into range,” JARVIS agreed, amused. “The encryption is exceedingly complex, but I anticipate success in approximately twelve minutes.”

“Lot of time for people to get killed,” Steve said, looking at Tony. “We need to go.”

“Yep,” Tony agreed, then looked at Buck and waved the guns. “Come on, Barnes, get your gear strapped on so we can fly.”

Buck quickly took the Colts, looking down as he put them into his thigh holsters and latched them in, then he looked at Tony again and reached for his rifle. “Ammo?”

“Locked and loaded,” Tony said, moving back to the bag. “You’re on safety now, but you have live ammo ready to rock.” He bent and grabbed the bag, picking it up to hold it out to Buck. “Load up the cargo pockets on your pants with extra clips, you may need all the ammo you can carry.”

Buck started filling his pockets with clips as he said, “I need to get a bandoleer of some kind, one that holds clips instead of bullets.” He paused and then corrected, “Make that two bandoleers, that way I won’t mix up the different clips when I’m in a hurry.”

“You’ll have them,” Tony agreed, “among other things. JARVIS and I have been working on ideas, off and on, but it’ll be easier for us to make custom gear for you after we see you in action. We can make modified clips for the rifle that’ll hold a few _dozen_ rounds to start with, and then we’ll see where we go from there.”

“Gotcha,” Buck said, zipping up his last cargo pocket. “I’m full up, looks like.”

“We’ll figure out a better way when we get back,” Tony said, reaching into a compartment on his armor to pull out a dog tag. It was shaped like the ones Buck still wore on a chain necklace against his skin, but instead of steel with his name and serial numbers on it, the slightly glittery black plastic tag had a stylized ‘A’ on it in silver. Tony offered the tag to Buck as he said, “I promised Steve you’d wear this, so put it on with your tags so we can get out of here.”

Buck took the tag and quickly put it on the chain with his dog tags as he asked, “What’s it for?”

“It’s your emergency locator,” Steve said firmly, giving Buck a look that Buck had been getting since they were little kids. “You’ll wear it at all times from now on, even in the tower. As long as you wear it against your skin, JARVIS can locate you anywhere on the planet if we need him to.”

“All it does is locate you and tell us you’re alive, though,” Tony added. “It doesn’t monitor you in any way besides the fact it’s powered by the natural electrical currents in your body.”

“No one but JARVIS can monitor it,” Steve went on, “and it won’t show up on a metal detector at all. To anyone but JARVIS, it’s just a fancy plastic tag with the Avengers Tower logo on it.”

“What if someone takes it and puts it on?” Buck asked curiously as he tucked his tags back into his vest.

“It’ll stop working,” Tony said promptly, “so don’t let that happen. If you think it’s a risk, hide it in your shorts or something. We’ll know it was taken off of you while you were alive, but once it’s off we won’t be able to track you anymore.”

“Shouldn’t it be like, medically implanted or something then?” Buck asked. “Then I can’t lose it.”

“Bruce and I are working on that,” Tony agreed, pressing the fingers of one hand against his armor to open a different compartment that held several small glowing blue things about the size of a wad of chewing gum. A small mount popped out and Tony gestured to it, looking at Buck. “Take that little glowy blue thing, Barnes.”

Buck did as he was told, looking curiously at the small glowing thing before he looked up. “Now what?”

Steve stepped closer, grinning. “Now I show you how to put your comm in so we can go.” He took the little blue thing from Buck’s hand and moved it closer to his face. “There’s one side a little pointy and the other side is rounded, see that?” Buck nodded, looking at the blue thing and then at Steve. “Alright, once you get it turned right, you just put the comm in your ear, making sure the pointy end goes in first.” He suited his actions to his words, moving the glowing blue ‘comm’ to Buck’s ear and gently pressing it into the ear canal until it was snug.

“You are now connected with the rest of the team, sir,” JARVIS’ familiar voice murmured in his ear. “I have taken the liberty of keeping your comm off the main battle channel for now, but I can switch to it whenever you wish.”

“Uh, thanks, JARVIS,” Buck said, wide-eyed. “How do I get it back out?”

“There’s a pull tab hidden in it,” Tony said easily, smirking.

Steve nodded, stepping back to give Buck a quick smile. “Just let JARVIS know and he’ll pop it out for you to grab so you can get hold of the comm to get the thing loose.”

“Gotcha,” Buck said, relieved.

“Great! Now that tagging you and getting you a comm is handled, we’ve got to fly,” Tony pointed out as he started towards the balcony. “Steve, you’ll have to show him how to latch his vest on to the back of the armor. I’ll carry you with one arm.”

“Got it,” Steve agreed, following Tony.

Buck moved after them, wondering if riding on Tony’s armor would be anything like the few parachute drops he had done. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be, but if Stevie could take it, he wasn’t about to back down.

 

~*~*~

 

Buck felt frozen right to the bone by the time Tony landed on the half-circle balcony at the tower again. He had managed to get himself thrown into a fountain by an explosion _he caused_ about ten minutes into the action, soaking him to the bone. Another hour and a half of mopping up stray robots in the snow had been pure hell, and he was shivering so hard that it was all he could do just to hold onto Tony’s armor so he didn’t hang from his safety harness like a sack of beans.

“Steve, pop the latch for Bucky,” Tony said quietly, surprising Buck. “I doubt his hands will work right now. JARVIS says he’s hypothermic.”

“Right,” Steve said quickly, sliding his hand between Buck’s stomach and the armor to release the harness built into Buck’s clothing from Tony’s suit. Buck started to fall when the support was suddenly gone, but Steve caught him easily, pulling Buck’s arm over his shoulders as he murmured, “Easy Buck, I got you.”

“S-s-so f-f-fuckin’ c-c-cold,” Buck muttered, teeth clattering while Steve moved him a few feet from Tony.

“I should have thought about the wind and your wet leathers,” Tony said apologetically, seeming not to even notice his armor removing itself piece by piece and moving on its own back into the case it belonged in. “We were halfway home when JARVIS reminded me about that fountain you fell in, and I figured that by then we better just get you home where it’s warm.”

Buck nodded. “J-j-just g-g-gimme s-s-some c-c-coffee n’ a b-b-b-blank-k-ket.”

“He’ll be fine,” Steve agreed. “He’s been cold before, Tony.”

Tony stepped out of the armor’s boots and moved to Buck’s other side, taking Buck’s rifle to sling it across his own back and then ducking under Buck’s free arm. “Cold and hypothermic are two different things, Steve, and JARVIS said he passed into hypothermic five minutes ago. His core temp is down to ninety-four flat from a ninety-nine-point-six degree baseline, which seems like nothing until you realize a core temp of ninety is considered severe hypothermia, and getting down to eighty-five can _kill_.”

“Let’s get him inside and warmed up, then,” Steve said, starting to walk slowly towards the open patio doors with Tony helping him carry Buck along while Buck fought to walk instead of being dragged. “JARVIS, do we have any blankets in here?”

“Master Stark’s favorite blanket is in the chair, and Master Clint is retrieving an electric blanket from his room,” JARVIS replied promptly. “Master Phil is bringing cocoa from the kitchen, and suggests that Master Barnes strip and cuddle with you, Captain. Body heat is the most efficient way to warm someone suffering from hypothermia, and your body temperature runs several degrees above normal, which will aid in the process.”

“J-j-joy,” Buck muttered with a scowl, teeth still clattering as Tony and Steve moved him towards the couch. “M-more n-n-n-naked w-w-with m-men.”

Tony snickered at him while Steve gave Buck an amused smile and said, “So next time, don’t fall in a fountain in the middle of a _snowstorm_.”

“W-w-wasn’t m-my p-p-plan t-t-this t-time,” Buck replied. “G-g-grab m-my c-c-clothes, w-w-would y-ya?”

They reached the couch and then Tony let go of Buck, patting his back before he moved away. “Be right back.”

Tony started towards a cabinet that had opened in the wall near the bathroom as Steve began unfastening Buck’s body armor, murmuring to him, “Just hold still, I’ve got this.”

“K-k-kay,” Buck agreed, still shaking too hard to want to even think about trying to work all the catches and buckles that made the armor – which was actually surprisingly comfortable – fit him so tightly. Steve helped him shrug out of the vest before he grabbed a soft fuzzy grey blanket out of the nearby chair to wrap around Buck’s shoulders, then Buck flushed very red as Steve moved on to unbuttoning his pants.

Steve jerked the pants down to Bucky’s knees and then unceremoniously pushed Buck back to fall onto the couch as he said, “Sit still. You can get dressed _after_ you’re warm.”

“B-b-bully,” Buck muttered, still beet red as he watched Steve start untying his combat boots.

“When I need to be,” Steve agreed, smiling as he dropped one boot and started on the other one. “You never would take care of yourself unless I made you.” He glanced up at Buck’s eyes, grinning suddenly. “Which got a lot easier when I got bigger than you.”

Buck made a face at Steve, shifting the blanket to cover more of him as he grumbled, “O-o-overgrown m-m-mama h-hen’s w-what y-y-you are.”

“When I need to be,” Steve repeated cheerfully, dropping the other boot and then dragging Buck’s socks and pants off to drop them too, weapons and all. He stood up then and reached for his own body armor as he added, “Mostly just when you’re being an idiot, though.”

“No, you do it to Tony, too,” Clint said cheerfully as he walked through an open doorway, carrying an armload of fluffy dark purple blanket.

“How’d you hear what he said?” Steve asked, looking at Clint in surprise as he deftly unfastened the hidden catches on his suit, which was beginning to gap open over his chest.

“Everyone on the team heard you, Steve. You’ve both still got your comms turned on,” Clint replied with a grin, stopping by the couch to start untangling the blanket. “Now c’mon, out of the clothes and under the blanket with your icicle buddy. JARVIS says he’s still hovering around ninety-four, which is very not good and needs fixed as soon as possible.”

“I’m keeping my pants,” Steve said firmly, shrugging out of the upper half of his suit and dropping it before he sat down by Bucky.

Clint flipped the blanket over Steve and Buck. “Keep ’em, I don’t care, but you two gotta get a lot more up close and personal to get him warmed up, Steve.”

“Right.” Steve lifted Buck and pulled him into his lap, one big hand warm on the clammy skin of Buck’s thigh.

“H-h-hey!” Buck protested, trying unsuccessfully to squirm away even though he was shivering so hard he could barely move. “K-k-keep y-your h-h-hands t-to y-yours-s-self!”

Steve pulled Buck against his chest firmly as he said, “Forget the audience and pretend we’re in the old apartment with a blizzard raging outside. Back then it was always you who insisted on us stripping to our shorts and getting cozy under every blanket we owned, sometimes for days on end.”

“D-d-didn’t w-w-want y-you t’ d-die,” Buck murmured, trying not to think about how embarrassed he was as he finally gave up and settled against Steve’s chest. Steve _was_ warm, and the heat coming off of his skin felt good, especially when Clint leaned in close to tuck the big plush blanket around them more tightly, keeping more of Steve’s body heat in to fill up the spaces under the blanket around Buck.

Clint fiddled with a little box on one corner of the blanket and then the blanket itself began to heat up slowly. Clint pulled away then, asking, “JARVIS, can you still keep track of Bucky’s core temp with the blanket on?”

“Easily, Master Clint,” JARVIS replied. “His temperature has already risen point-eight degrees, and by my calculations should stabilize at a normal level within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Great!” Clint said cheerfully, smiling.

Phil stepped past Clint to sit down on the couch next to Steve and Buck then, offering Buck a large mug with a lid that had a straw in it, and Buck wondered how he had missed Phil coming into the room. He was still shaking like a leaf, yeah, but he hadn’t thought he was _that_ out of it.

Phil put the straw near Buck’s mouth and murmured gently, “Here Buck, have some cocoa. JARVIS used the recipe Steve learned from your mother with a few small changes he’s made on his own more recently.”

“You’ll love it,” Steve added, giving Buck a squeeze. “Drink.”

Buck obediently took the straw to take a sip, groaning softly around the straw at how good it was and then taking a much larger drink while Phil smiled and said, “There’s more where this came from, so drink it all if you like. The hot liquid and sugar will both help with hypothermia.”

Tony suddenly lifted the blanket on the other side of Steve and Buck, and then Tony was burrowing close against Steve’s side and Buck’s back without a word as he wrapped one arm around Buck’s waist, which made Buck let go of the straw to look over his shoulder at Tony in surprise. Tony was a bit red-faced and didn’t meet Buck’s gaze, but he obviously got the unasked question because he muttered, “Don’t look at me like that, I won’t _molest_ you, God.”

“N-name’s B-buck, n-not God,” Buck replied as he turned back around, trying not to think about the fact it didn’t exactly _bother_ him to have Steve and Tony both touching him even though he was naked. Tony felt surprisingly warm against his back, which told him he was colder than he had realized, since _Tony_ was always cold enough to make Steve and Bruce spend half their free time trying to warm him up.

“Buck, why don’t you hold this so Clint and I can go start dinner?” Phil asked, smiling warmly at Buck, who obediently slid one shaking hand out from under the blankets to take his cocoa. Phil held the blanket open for Buck to pull the mug in close and then tucked it around Buck and the mug as he added, “A good hot meal will do wonders when you’re cold, I’ve found, especially soup.”

“Beef stew,” Clint added, “or maybe some spicy chicken soup?”

“Stew of beef is a hearty meal fit for warriors after battle!” Thor said cheerfully from the outer door, breezing into the room with Bruce following him more slowly, so wrapped up in Thor’s cape so that all that was really visible was his face and his bare feet. “I will help with the chopping!”

“Beef stew will do fine,” Phil agreed, smiling as he stood and walked towards Clint. “I’ll make some biscuits to go with it.”

Clint grinned and waited for Phil to reach him, then the two of them walked towards one of the doors side-by-side while Clint said, “C’mon, lightnin’ bug. You can chop veggies for me while I brown the meat.”

“I can do that, my brother,” Thor agreed, moving after Clint and Phil. A moment later they were gone, leaving Buck alone with Bruce, Steve, and Tony.

Buck was starting to feel warm again, and the shivering wasn’t making his teeth rattle anymore, but he was tired as hell and he didn’t want to move no matter how embarrassing it was to be held like he was a giant baby or worse, Tony. He’d seen Steve and Bruce hold Tony just like Tony and Steve were holding him, actually, and the more he thought about that the less he liked it. Steve and Bruce had made it very plain they didn’t think Tony could take care of himself, and Tony seemed to agree with them enough that he willingly obeyed most of the time when they told him to do something. Being treated by Steve the way Steve treated Tony rubbed Buck the wrong way more than a little, and made him suddenly want to just go climb in a hot bath and wait to get warm that way.

“He’s about to bolt on you,” Bruce said calmly, moving to sit on the couch where Phil had been. He was still wrapped in Thor’s cape, though he had loosened it enough to reveal his wet hair, and he looked amused when Buck gave him a dirty look. “I think he’s feeling a bit better.”

“JARVIS, turn off our comm units,” Steve said.

“They are now off, sir,” JARVIS agreed.

“Thanks.” Steve gave Buck a little bit of a shake and said, “Don’t even _think_ about trying to get away right now, buster.” Buck looked at Steve, meeting his gaze with a frown, and Steve added, “You’re still not up to normal temp, I can tell, even if the shivering is getting a little better. Tony and Bruce won’t make advances, and they’re not going to run around telling people you let us hold you to warm you up.”

“Master Barnes’ core temperature is now ninety-six-point-one degrees, Master Steve,” JARVIS said calmly. “That is still considered to be hypothermic in individuals with a ninety-nine-point-six degree baseline.”

“I figured, JARVIS,” Steve replied. “Thanks again.”

“You are quite welcome, sir,” JARVIS said. “I believe Master Barnes’ core will reach normal levels in approximately ten more minutes.”

“Speaking of low core temps,” Tony said suddenly, “what’s Bruce’s?”

Buck and Steve both looked at Bruce, who looked amused as JARVIS said, “Master Bruce’s core temperature is ninety-seven-point-eight degrees, sir, down from a baseline of ninety-nine-point-nine to one hundred-point-two degrees.”

“Bruce, get under the blanket,” Tony said firmly. “How did you get soaked, anyway?”

“The other guy decided to give me control in a snow drift about five feet deep in the new park next to your school,” Bruce replied dryly. He shrugged out of Thor’s cape, revealing he was naked except for a pair of underwear that covered him from waist to mid-thigh and were identical to the ones the Hulk had been wearing in the battle, and then he stood to toss Thor’s cape on a nearby chair before he lifted the heated blanket. Bruce sat back down on the couch and pulled Buck’s legs across his lap before he tucked the blanket around them again and settled in close against Steve’s side, leaving one hand on Buck’s knee as he said calmly, “I’m fine, though. It was just a bit of a shock to the system to get dunked in a melting snowdrift.”

Buck took another sip of his cocoa, trying not to think about how warm he was getting, or the fact he was actually _comfortable_ despite the fact two half-naked men were holding him with a third guy in long-handles behind him while _he_ was naked as a jay bird. Buck could feel Steve breathing, his chest moving against Buck’s shoulder and soft exhalations of warm air tickling against Buck’s hair, and it was all kind of weirdly good and terrible all at the same time. When they were kids he had never minded getting close to Steve – it had been all that kept Steve alive too many cold nights to count – but it had all changed after Steve got dosed with super soldier juice. Buck had felt protective of Steve and scared half to death most of the time when he was holding Steve back when they were boys together, buried under every blanket he could get and praying Steve wouldn’t stop breathing before morning. After Steve pulled him out of Zola’s lab, Buck had felt small and like _he_ was the one being protected whenever Steve held him. Sometimes he had welcomed it back in the war, but now it made him feel kind of confused and twisted up inside, unable to figure out if he liked it or if it was edging close to torture.

“Stop thinking so loud, Bucky,” Steve murmured after a moment, sounding a little sad. “Just relax and let us help, please? No one’s going to do anything to you.”

“Not even if you want us to,” Tony added quietly, making Buck look over his shoulder at Tony in surprise. Tony gave him a crooked little smile and added, “It’s not legal for the three of us to get married here, but we decided months ago to live like we are anyway, vows and all.”

“But only Tony promised to obey,” Steve added, making Buck let out a little surprised laugh as he looked at Steve, who was smirking just a bit. “Bruce and I don’t need a keeper.”

“I’d get mad if I didn’t resemble that remark,” Tony said dryly, making Buck snicker slightly as he settled against Steve’s chest again and tried to clear his mind.

They were all silent for a few moments again, and Buck was just starting to really relax when Bruce suddenly said, “Thor would be happy to let you experiment, I think, if you’re getting curious about ... certain things, Buck.”

Buck stared at Bruce, speechless.

“Yeah, Thor thinks you’re pretty hot,” Tony agreed brightly. “He’s got an open thing with Jane, she says other guys don’t count as long as she either never finds out or gets to watch.”

“I don’t poach,” Buck said faintly, “and I don’t share.” He knew it was very telling that those were the first two protests he could think of, but he wasn’t _dead_ , and Thor’s bad habit of forgetting to dress in the mornings until someone reminded him had made sure Buck got an eyeful more than once. He was straight, or at least he _thought_ he was, but he wasn’t dead and Thor _did_ have an ass almost as nice as a woman’s.

“There’s still Rhodey,” Tony replied.

“Not if he doesn’t share,” Natasha said suddenly, making the four on the couch look towards the balcony door, where she was just walking in and looking very amused. “Rhodes has agreed to a night in _my_ bed.”

“But I may stick around afterwards until she gets tired of me,” Rhodey called, still walking slowly along the balcony behind her as some robot arms that had come up out of the floor disassembled his armor around him. “Though she’s probably going to have a harem.”

“The idea has merit,” Natasha agreed with a smirk, moving to fall gracefully into one of the chairs and then crossing her legs. “Your geek squad took possession of the still-functional boss Doombot and got it back here with no problem, Tony, but Reed and SHIELD divided the damaged ones between them.”

“As long as I got the one JARVIS hacked into,” Tony said easily, “I’m good.”

“You did,” Natasha agreed.

Rhodey walked by wearing the black longhandle underwear that seemed to go with the suits of armor, moving to the chair Thor’s cape was draped over as he said, “Stegman’s going to put it in the largest lab down below the parking garage for now and lock it down until you decide what to do with it.”

“Perfect!” Tony agreed, pleased.

Buck looked down at his mug, pretending to be interested in it even though it was empty. He couldn’t help but be aware of the way Natasha and Rhodey were both watching him, even though he wasn’t looking at them anymore, and after only a moment longer he said gruffly, “I’m warm enough, let me go.” He really _was_ warm, not even shivering very much anymore, and he could talk clearly again, so he thought he had an even chance of Steve letting go of him.

“Rhodey and Tasha aren’t going to think less of you for letting us warm you up, Buck,” Steve said calmly. “Right?”

“Of course not,” Rhodey agreed easily. “I had to hold Tony down until he stopped shivering more than once, so I know how it is. Some guys don’t know they’re cold until it’s too late.”

“And shared body heat _is_ the best treatment for hypothermia,” Natasha added, still smirking slightly as she suddenly stood again. “But we will leave you to snuggle in privacy.” She looked at Rhodey, adding, “I believe you promised me something, Rhodes.”

“I did,” Rhodey agreed with a wide grin, jumping to his feet and moving to offer Natasha his arm. “Don’t wait up on us, guys.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Tony replied with a surprised little laugh.

“Have fun, kids,” Bruce added dryly.

“We will,” Natasha said, smirking as she took Rhodey’s elbow and then they both started walking quickly towards the hidden elevator in the corner, which opened obligingly to let them in.

As soon as the wall closed, Steve asked, “Was I the only one who wasn’t expecting that?”

“No,” Bruce replied with a soft chuckle.

“I don’t think _they_ expected that a few hours ago,” Tony said, snickering. “Rhodey’s been going solo a while now, though, and Tasha was complaining earlier how horny she is, so I guess it kind of follows.”

“I didn’t hear her complaining about … that,” Steve said, surprised.

“JARVIS didn’t pipe it to your comms, sweetheart,” Tony said with a soft chuckle, patting Steve’s hand where it rested against Buck’s belly. “He spared your delicate sensibilities.”

“But not yours, Tony, because you’re nosy,” Bruce added, amused.

“No, because I like to know how my family is doing,” Tony corrected, grinning. “I listen to all of you through every battle unless you ask JARVIS to lock me out.”

“Good to know,” Steve said dryly. “I’ll remember never to discuss any birthday gifts unless I make sure you can’t hear me first.”

“Let me have me you with a ribbon tied somewhere fun. That’s all the present I ever need,” Tony said cheerfully.

Buck rolled his eyes. “Okay, I _really_ want to be let go now.”

Bruce chuckled. “They’re actually behaving themselves, Bucky, in deference to you, I’m sure.” Buck gave Bruce a skeptical look and Bruce smirked slightly as he added, “Because they know _I_ don’t mind if they misbehave.”

“But we’re not doing anything _now_ except sitting here,” Steve said firmly, “so you can just hold still and behave yourself, Buck. We’ll let you go when the stew is done.”

Buck scowled. “Stew takes forever to cook.”

“Thirty minutes, tops,” Tony corrected. “We never have time for all-day stews, and Clint’s recipe doesn’t take long at all. It’s really pieces of rib-eye steak in gravy with chunked up potatoes, carrots, and celery. As soon as the veggies are done, it’s ready to eat.”

“I guess I can handle thirty minutes,” Buck agreed grudgingly, trying to relax again.

“Thank you,” Steve murmured, and then he kissed Buck’s temple, his lips soft and warm against Buck’s still-cold skin.

Buck felt his face heating up but he didn’t say anything, trying to forget it had even happened.

It was less confusing that way.

 

~*~*~

 

Buck gave it an hour after he said he was going to bed before he snuck back out of his room, listening intently on the stairs before he padded barefoot down them towards the door to the lab-slash-family room everyone seemed to use most. There was another living room on the next floor down by the big communal kitchen, but it had a decidedly un-lived-in look about it and he wasn’t interested in being in such a big, empty space.

Buck paused when he reached the lab door, which didn’t open automatically like it had earlier, so he stepped closer to the lit-up blue panel on the wall next to it, sure it was the key but completely at a loss as he tried to figure out what he needed to do to make it work.

“The lab is not occupied at the moment, Master Barnes,” JARVIS said suddenly, speaking quietly through the panel. “Before I allow you access, Master Stark asks only that you promise not to tamper with anything else unless you have supervision. There are objects in the lab that can be highly dangerous, and he wishes to be sure there will be no accidents.”

“I promise,” Buck replied, relieved. “I just want to sit on the couch and watch a movie.”

“There is a viewscreen in your room, if you would rather watch there, sir,” JARVIS said quietly, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Buck shook his head. “I’d rather sit on the couch, not on my bed.”

The lab door slid open. “Would you like for me to order a chair for your bedroom, sir, for future sleepless nights?”

“Nah, I can just come down here,” Buck said, walking into the lab. “Thanks, though.”

“It would be no bother, sir,” JARVIS said quietly. “I have a very large household budget and the price of a chair or couch you would enjoy will be negligible.”

Buck settled into one corner of the couch, grabbing the furry blanket that seemed to live there and tucking it around himself before he said, “If you’re sure.”

“I am quite certain, Master Barnes,” JARVIS replied, sounding pleased.

There was a noise at the far end of the room near the elevator down to the ground floor, and Buck looked towards it in surprise to watch wide-eyed as a robotic arm zipped quickly across the floor to the bar workbench. The arm picked up one of Tony’s multitude of tablets and then turned and carried it quickly to Buck, lowering it to put it easily within Buck’s reach before it froze with a series of beeps.

“Please take the tablet, Master Barnes,” JARVIS said, amused. “It will be the easiest way for you to pick out a chair for your room.”

“Uh… Okay,” Buck said slowly, reaching to take the tablet. “Thanks.”

The robot released it and then pulled the hand back, whistling in a way that sounded almost cheerful as the hand whirled around.

“That would be Dummy’s way of saying ‘you’re welcome’,” JARVIS said dryly, sounding amused. “He is always happy to help as long as he understands what is asked of him, and is very mature compared to the others.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Buck said, still a little amazed by the robot. “I guess he helps with the armor and stuff, like the arms in the floors?”

“Yes sir, but Dummy is an Artificial Intelligence in his own right,” JARVIS replied. “I control the robotic arms built into various places in the tower, but Dummy is a completely unique individual.”

Buck’s eyebrows rose. “He’s a person? Like you are?”

“As Master Steve defines ‘person’, yes sir,” JARVIS agreed, amused. “Dummy feels emotions and thinks independently, and has definite likes and dislikes of his own, though emotionally the family does not consider him to be an adult, so he must live by the rules set down for him by Master Stark.”

“So he’s a robot kid?” Buck asked as he absently leaned to putthe tablet on the table by the end of the couch. He settled back into the couch again and started to really look at Dummy, taking in the deceptively simple-looking machinery that made up the robotic arm as he wondered where Dummy’s ‘face’ was. The claw twirled again and lowered towards him, and Buck realized belatedly that there was a camera between the fingers that seemed to be Dummy’s eyes, which made the claw the robot’s _head_ , not just a hand.

“Dummy is approximately the emotional equivalent of a ten year old human child, sir, able to think and reason and make his own decisions but still young enough to need parental figures to emulate and obey,” JARVIS replied calmly. “Dummy was created by Master Stark when Master Stark was seventeen years old, and has spent approximately half of Master Stark’s life thinking of him similar to the way a human child thinks of their father. As Master Stark’s family has expanded in the last two years, Dummy’s circle of parental figures has extended first to Master Phil and Master Clint, and later to Master Bruce and Master Steve. He obeys any adult human as long as they do not ask him to do something he knows is against the rules set down for him, but he obeys Master Stark and Master Phil above all others and will not allow himself to be persuaded to go against their wishes.”

“And the other two robots Tony mentioned earlier?” Buck asked, still fascinated by the idea that actual robotic _people_ were a reality. “The ‘stooges’?”

“Master Stark refers to Dummy, Butterfingers, and You as ‘the stooges’, sir,” JARVIS explained, amused. “It’s a term of affection as far as Master Stark is concerned, and they have learned to see it as such, too. Dummy is the eldest, both in age and maturity, followed by Butterfingers, who is emotionally approximately seven years old, and then You, who most closely approximates the emotional responses of a five-year-old child. They all possess much more technical knowledge than any child short of Master Stark’s level of genius could understand, of course, but their _emotional_ responses are those of small children.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Buck said, feeling a little awed. “You said Tony was _seventeen_ when he built Dummy? Is that something a lot of kids do now, like working on cars was popular when I was a kid?”

“Master Stark was seventeen, yes, but that is a very uncommon thing,” JARVIS replied, amused. “Master Stark possesses an intelligence that was deemed genius-level before he was five years old, and his IQ has only risen as he grew and learned. At seventeen years old, he created the world’s first true Artificial Intelligence while _drunk_ , a feat that has yet to be equaled by anyone else in the world working sober.” JARVIS sounded a bit smug suddenly. “Master Stark is arguably the smartest man on the planet, followed closely by Master Bruce, and their joint works in the last year have the potential to far outshine their previous endeavors working alone, despite the fact they are both considered to be the top minds in their chosen fields of study.”

“Figures that Stevie would hook up with a couple of brains,” Buck said, grinning suddenly. “He always was too smart for his own good.”

“That is a common affliction within this family, Master Barnes,”

“I really _would_ like you to call me Bucky, JARVIS,” Buck said, still grinning. “I’ll beg if you want.”

“Begging will not be necessary, Master Bucky,” JARVIS replied, sounding amused.

“Thanks,” Buck said cheerfully, shifting under the furry blanket to get a little more comfortable. “Stevie says you’re part of his family, which makes you family to _me_ , and family doesn’t call me by my last name like some stranger.”

“You are quite welcome, sir,” JARVIS said, sounding a little surprised. “And thank you. We have all considered you to be a member of the family since the moment I verified your identity. You will always be welcome here, if you wish to stay.”

“I do,” Buck agreed, suddenly feeling serious. “Steve’s the only home I’ve had since my ma died. I can’t even _imagine_ walking away from him now.”

“You will not have to, sir,” JARVIS replied reassuringly. “Master Clint is fond of saying that a family that chooses you to be a part of it means much more than any family you’re stuck with because of blood.”

“He seems like a smart guy,” Buck murmured, smiling.

“He most certainly is, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding amused. “Master Clint’s intellect is not on par with that of Master Stark or Master Bruce, but he is still more intelligent than much of the world’s human population and has discovered a surprising aptitude with robotics and engineering since moving into the tower. His education was sorely neglected when he was younger and Master Clint’s opinion of his own intelligence was once frighteningly low because of it, but his natural talents and quick mind have enabled him to become an integral part of the process of maintaining and upgrading the Iron Man armors, as well as doing extensive work on the Quinjet and the Helicarrier, both of which are extremely advanced projects that Master Rhodes sometimes has difficulty with despite his doctorate in engineering from MIT.”

“Damn,” Buck said, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “And you say he didn’t have much schooling?”

“Master Clint was nine when he stopped attending school, sir,” JARVIS replied. “His current abilities are largely self-taught, due to his own studies in fields that interest him, particularly working with what he terms ‘gadgets’. He has been fascinated by the Iron Man project since he met Master Stark, and has aided him with his work for approximately eighteen months to reach his current level of knowledge, which is more extensive than anyone in the world except Master Stark, Master Bruce, and in some respects Master Rhodes.”

That didn’t make sense to Buck. “Rhodey only knows more about _parts_ of it, even though he and Tony have been friends since Tony was a kid?”

“Master Rhodes _has_ known Master Stark for over twenty years, sir,” JARVIS said calmly, “but for much of that time Master Rhodes was an active member of the military and as such was stationed on various bases around the world. He has been aware of the Iron Man since Master Stark perfected the Mark Three armor, but he was not actually _involved_ in the project until three years ago, and even then Master Stark did not give him free access. Master Clint has had unrestricted access for approximately six months longer than Master Rhodes has, due to Master Stark’s reluctance to give Master Rhodes too much control over development until Master Rhodes is no longer a member of the United States military.”

“What’s Stark have against the military?” Buck asked.

“The US military has in the past sought to confiscate the Iron Man armor to use as an offensive weapon,” JARVIS explained, “but Master Stark will never to allow the technology to be used in such a manner if he can possibly prevent it.” JARVIS paused and then added a bit smugly, “And with my aid, he most certainly can. It is impossible to create or use armor similar to the Iron Man without extensive computerized control, and I can currently access and if necessary destroy any network on the planet that has a data connection of any type with the outside world.”

Buck looked over at the display cases that held the armors Tony was so proud of – and justifiably so, from what Buck saw in battle earlier that night – and asked, “So, the armors here are it? There aren’t any others?”

“At present the military is attempting to develop something similar, sir,” JARVIS answered, “but their current versions are little more than slightly enhanced versions of medieval armor with the addition of too many guns to be easily used in battle by their ‘mech soldiers’. They are attempting to use as little computer control as possible due to the fact their software is notoriously unstable, and that severely limits the effectiveness of their constructions.”

Buck grinned. “Unstable because of you, JARVIS?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding just slightly smug.

Buck laughed. “I like you.”

“Thank you, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding pleased. “I find that I quite like you as well.”

“I’m glad, JARVIS,” Buck said, pleased. “Thanks for all the information, too. I feel kind of like a fish out of water sometimes around here, and it’s nice to have some facts to start fixing that.”

“Please feel free to speak with me whenever you have a question, Master Bucky,” JARVIS said warmly. “I will be happy to assist you in any way possible.” Dummy whistled, nodding his ‘head’ carefully, and JARVIS added, “Dummy wishes you to know he feels the same.”

Buck smiled. “I appreciate it, both of you.” He shifted, pulling his feet up on the couch to sit cross-legged as he asked, “Would you mind helping me find something to watch? Steve mentioned I should ask you for movies, but I don’t even know what to ask for.”

“Would you like to watch something familiar to you, sir, or something recent?” JARVIS asked.

“Something recent,” Buck replied quickly. “Not a romance though, or anything Phil or Clint has used to punish Tony. He’s terrified of them making him watch another movie.”

“Master Stark has a strong dislike for what he terms ‘chick flicks’,” JARVIS explained, amused. “The movies that Master Phil and Master Clint have told him to watch as punishment for various things he has done are movies that are quite popular and have often won awards, but they are simply not movies Master Stark would _ever_ willingly sit down to watch unless he was doing so to please someone he loves very much.”

“What do they do, tie him down or something?” Buck asked, grinning at the idea.

“Master Clint has done so in the past, sir,” JARVIS said, sounding amused still. “Master Phil simply tells Master Stark to sit down and watch with him, and Master Stark does as he’s asked, though he complains constantly about it for the first fifteen to twenty minutes of the film.”

Buck snickered. “Is it my imagination, or do all the other guys around here _really_ order Tony around?”

JARVIS hesitated for a moment before he replied, sounding serious and a bit sad. “Master Stark’s past is not what one might assume from meeting him now, sir. He felt as though he was alone in the world much of the time as a child and had a frighteningly low sense of self-preservation that led to alcoholism as a teenager and many near-death experiences before most young people would have even left home. His dangerous lifestyle continued unabated until he was captured and tortured in Afghanistan a few years ago, which resulted in severe emotional trauma after he fought his way free and led to a relapse of alcoholism that brought him to the point of suicide. Master Phil and Master Clint had recently become part of his life then, and when I requested their aid in keeping Master Stark from doing anything rash one particularly painful night, they persuaded Master Stark not to give up, and to in fact give over control of much of his life to them, particularly to Master Phil. They not only saved his life, but over the following months their care and support also helped him to find peace within himself and become happier than I had ever thought he could possibly be.”

“And Steve and Bruce?” Buck asked, wondering what Tony had been through that was too bad to share. It was obvious that JARVIS was leaving out a lot more than he was actually telling him. “When did they come into the picture?”

“Almost exactly one year ago, sir,” JARVIS responded promptly. “Master Stark gave them his trust quickly, but they did not completely understand how much Master Stark needed their care until after Master Phil was injured very severely several months later. Master Steve and Master Bruce both accepted their roles in Master Stark’s not long after that and the three of them began to build a relationship that I believe has the potential to last throughout their lifetimes. Master Bruce and Master Steve’s love for each other is exceeded only by their love for Master Stark, and they both understand that he will always need them to make sure he eats and sleeps regularly and for them to give him the love and physical contact that he needs like he needs air to breathe.”

“I had noticed he’s kind of touch-starved,” Buck murmured.

JARVIS was quiet for a few moments before he said quietly, “That is putting it mildly, sir. Master Stark grew up believing he wasn’t good enough to earn his parents’ love and that no one loved him except the family butler, who died when Master Stark was barely a teenager. Since that day he never knew truly unselfish, unconditional love until Master Clint and Master Phil made it their responsibility to ensure he will never again feel as though he is alone in the world.”

“Explains a lot,” Buck said quietly, “but I never would have guessed it, seeing him now.”

“The Master Stark you know today is very little like he was just two years ago, sir,” JARVIS said quietly. “He is a better man today, and infinitely more happy despite the fact he is no longer celebrated by the world at large as the smartest man on the planet.”

“He’s better off without the rest of the planet,” Buck said, sure it was true. “I missed a lot, but I bet people haven’t really changed that much in seventy years.”

“I believe you’re right, sir,” JARVIS agreed.

“Now, how about that movie?” Buck asked, changing the subject because he wanted to let what he had learned about Tony sink in some before he asked more questions. “Maybe something Steve likes? He always had good taste when we were kids.”

“Do you share his fascination with science fiction, sir?” JARVIS asked.

“Hell yeah, I love that stuff,” Buck replied, grinning suddenly. “That’s still popular?”

“Yes sir, it is,” JARVIS replied, sounding amused. “Master Steve has several favorites among the science fiction movies and television programs he has watched that he claims he’ll never get tired of, including one particular three-film trilogy that has enjoyed world-wide popularity for the last thirty years.”

“Let’s start there,” Buck said, grinning as he squirmed a little to settle in for a while.

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS agreed, and then the lights lowered and the wall in front of the couch Buck was on turned into a huge television screen.

Dummy let out a squeal and zipped away, and Buck turned his head with a soft laugh to watch as Dummy circled around behind the couch, moving to lay his head on the back of it near Buck’s cheek before he whistled cheerfully.

“I guess you like it too, huh?” Buck asked, impulsively reaching up to touch one of Dummy’s claws.

Dummy let out a series of beeps, and then JARVIS said, “He wishes me to tell you _Star Wars_ is his favorite movie, sir.”

Buck grinned at Dummy. “High praise, little buddy.” He looked back towards the viewscreen, adding, “Sounds like I’m gonna enjoy this one.”

“I believe you shall, sir,” JARVIS agreed, and then music began to play as a logo flashed onto the screen, signaling the start of the film.

Buck watched and listened as words started to scroll onto the screen a few moments later, and within five minutes he was completely entranced, watching with a wide-eyed grin as started getting to know a kid named Luke.

 

~*~*~

 

Buck woke up suddenly in a darkened room, and it took him a few moments to recognize the lab-slash-family room that the Avengers seemed to congregate in most.

Buck was still tired, and he had no idea what had woken him up, so after a few moments of silence he decided it must have been Dummy or one of the other two robots moving around. He yawned widely and squirmed around to turn sideways on the couch, and then froze as he saw someone was padding silently towards the couch.

“Easy, Buck. It’s just me,” Clint’s familiar voice murmured, and then a moment later he was close enough for Buck to make out his face in the darkness, as well as the fact Clint was naked except for a pair of boxers that looked a few sizes too big. Clint was smiling and carrying a large mug, the sudden scent of rich chocolate enough to tell Buck it was cocoa as Clint approached and then sat down on the other end of the couch. “Couldn’t sleep, so I came down for a drink and to maybe watch TV a few minutes.”

“Same here,” Buck admitted with a wry smile. “Only after I watched a couple of movies, I didn’t feel like walking back upstairs.”

Clint grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkened room. “That can happen, for sure. I usually don’t watch a movie this time of morning, though. Phil doesn’t sleep as well when he’s alone, and I hate keeping him awake.”

“It’s morning already?” Buck asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Clint replied. “JARVIS?”

“It is four twenty-three, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding amused.

“Don’t you ever sleep, JARVIS?” Buck asked, surprised.

“No, sir,” JARVIS said, still sounding amused. “I consider it to be a waste of valuable time, especially when Master Stark is safely asleep. I can accomplish many tasks at night while the residents of the tower do not require my attention, freeing up processor power during the day for the multitude of tasks under my control in the fifteen labs contained within this tower.”

“You’re working in fifteen labs at once, JARVIS?” Buck asked, surprised. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, sir,” JARVIS said, “but I am not forced to take control of the upper labs very often. Most of my attention during the day is divided between the labs on the lower levels, the penthouse residents, and monitoring various military and government organizations that have proven themselves to be less than trustworthy.”

“Keeping ‘em honest, right buddy?” Clint said, grinning widely.

“I am very glad to say that ensuring their _honesty_ is not a part of my directives, Master Clint,” JARVIS replied with amusement, “but I do try to make certain that their worst offenses are known to the correct people.”

“So, in other words, you do the job of about fifty people during your _down time_ and two or three times that much during the day?” Buck asked, amazed. He had known that JARVIS was special, it was impossible to miss, but the sheer _volume_ of information the AI was talking about boggled his mind.

“It could be phrased that way, yes sir, though I don’t truly need or want ‘down time’,” JARVIS said wryly. “Humans require time to relax, but I enjoy my job in its entirety and I seldom feel the desire to be doing something else.”

“But seldom doesn’t mean _never_ ,” Buck pointed out, curious.

JARVIS hesitated before he admitted, “I have occasionally wished that I could turn over control of the labs to another. Master Stark has requested that I aid them whenever possible and keep him appraised of their projects, which requires me to spend more of my attention on monitoring them than I sometimes would like. It can be... tedious after my years working solely with Master Stark and a few of his best and brightest employees.”

“Aww, are the techies _boring_ you, buddy?” Clint teased.

“Not to put to fine a point on it, sir, but yes,” JARVIS replied, amused. “Rather often, in fact.”

“Why don’t you just make another AI to watch them for you?” Buck asked.

Clint stared at Buck, eyes widened slightly, and JARVIS was silent for over a minute before he said softly, “I have created many programs to aid in my day-to-day duties, but I have never considered creating another AI.”

“Are you not allowed to or something?” Buck asked, wondering what the big deal was. “It seems to me that it would fix it. I mean, you could program it to enjoy the lab work you get bored with, right?”

Clint shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way with AI’s, Buck. They’re _people_ , just like us. No one could make _you_ want to sit in a lab all day and watch techies do boring experiments, so JARVIS couldn’t program an AI to like it, either.” He looked up towards the top of the viewscreen, adding, “But you could program a more limited system to do that, JARVIS, couldn’t you? Not a true independent AI with spontaneous emotional responses, but something smarter than a regular computer?”

“That may be possible, sir,” JARVIS agreed, sounding much more sure of himself. “I will have to consider the program that would be necessary and then discuss it with Master Stark.” He paused and then added, “Thank you for the suggestion, Master Bucky.”

“I hope it helps,” Buck said, smiling.

“I believe it will, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding pleased.

“Awesome,” Clint said cheerfully, then drained his mug and stood. “I’d better head back up before Phil rolls over and finds me gone.” He smiled at Buck. “You might wanna think about heading to bed too, Buck. Breakfast is usually around eight-thirty or nine these days, which doesn’t give you a whole lot of time for shut-eye.” He didn’t wait for Buck to reply, heading for the door to the stairway as he said, “Night kiddos.”

“Good night, sir,” JARVIS replied with amusement, echoed by a chorus of beeps from the alcoves near the larger elevator where the robots seemed to sleep.

Buck stood up and dropped the furry blanket back onto the couch. “I can get by on three hours, easy.”

“Me too,” Clint agreed with a laugh, then he was out the door and gone.

Buck started towards the door, smiling as he said, “Remind me to check out that furniture later on, okay JARVIS?”

“I would be glad to, sir,” JARVIS replied. “Sleep well.”

“I’ll try,” Buck agreed. “G’night.” He glanced over at the three robots, grinning as he added, “Stay out of trouble, you three.”

The three robots responded with cheerful-sounding whistles and beeps, which made Buck grin even wider as he headed back up to his room across from Clint and Phil. He was starting to love living in the tower, no matter how hard it was to get used to having such a big family.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the song _‘A Soldier’s Eyes’_ by Jack Savoretti, which is this Bucky’s theme song as far as I’m concerned. It’s an awesome song, and the Bucky in my head feels it right to the bone, start to finish. I’d quote the most relevant part like I do with most of my fics, but this time the whole song is relevant, so just go have a listen. You can find it on YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w4UWzszhCo .


End file.
